


Sato, #22, Shooting Guard

by MidoriAkiko



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Basketball, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Humor, F/F, Inappropriate Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-08 16:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3215168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriAkiko/pseuds/MidoriAkiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra's a badass basketball player, but she wasn't ready for #22, Sato, who is equally as badass. But pretty. Pretty hot. And nice. Damnit. </p><p>Her frustration lands them in an awkward position.</p><p>Inspired by that <a href="http://story.siz.io/post/91078675758/video">THAT ONE HANDBALL GIF</a>. Rated T for language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My name is...

Korra swore as the cold morning air slapped her face.

"Shit! It is fucking cold!"

She pulled her hoodie a little tighter around her neck and quickly locked her door. She readjusted the duffel bag slung over her shoulder into a more comfortable position and ran down the driveway. Her feet took the path to the gym all on muscle memory, which was good, because the cold was freezing all workable cells in her brain.

Finally, after five really long, really cold, minutes, Korra got to the gym. She quickly walked through the double doors, into the back area, pushing open a single metal door.

The room was dimly lit, and scanning it quickly, she realized she was one of the last ones to arrive.

"Hey Korra!"

"Hi Korra!"

She gave small waves and nods as a litany of greetings were thrown her way. She picked a seat as the rest of her teammates finished up their conversations. Korra reached into her duffle and pulled out a well-worn notebook. Everyone gave her shit about her 'tablet,' but she really liked the old-school marble feel. The fucking spiral notebooks always got bent in her bag anyway.

The door opened again, and in walked her coach, Tenzin. In the three years she'd been playing college basketball for him, he'd given her lectures on everything from punctuality to zen gardening. Dude was a guy of many talents, including boring Korra to death.

She remembered her coffee, or as her teammate Opal liked to call it, "Anti-Tenzin Tonic." The lights flicked off, and the wall lit up with projector light. Korra internally groaned. This was the usual four hour meeting prior to a game where they went over video of their opponent, learning stuff and blah blah blah.

They were set to play Republic City University this coming Friday. It was a non-conference game, so Korra wasn't particularly concerned with it. The Air Temple Bisons had already secured a spot in the playoffs.

Korra phased out. She didn't need to watch game tape. They could beat them anyway. If you were good enough, you'd win, tape or not. She'd been working her ass off since she was four, going to training camps, practicing until midnight alone, doing drills until her eyes crossed. It's what made her into State Player of the Year in high school, and what got her the full ride to Air Temple University. Korra was convinced that watching tape on her opponent wasn't going to make a difference. Her eyes slid shut.

"KORRA!"

"Zzz?" she startled awake. Ah fuck. Busted. Tenzin's face said it all.

"I want you to guard number 22, Sato."

She squinted to where Tenzin's pointer was indicating. The girl was surprisingly good. Pretty athletic and agile, but nothing Korra couldn't handle. She looked skinny too, so it'd be easy to push her around. Korra shrugged, putting her chin back on her hand.

"Yeah sure, whatever, Coach."

* * *

 

_**45:00 minutes to game time:** _

"Coach, I can't fucking guard that girl!" Korra argued with Tenzin on the sideline. Fifteen minutes into the warm ups, Korra realized that number 22, the girl she was expected to guard, was at least three inches taller than her.

"Watch your language!" he reprimanded. "What's the problem? You said it was no big deal."

"Yeah well, that's before I knew she was a fucking giant! Why am I guarding a post?!"

Tenzin held his hands out, palms up. "If you'd been paying attention on film day, you'd have noticed she's not a forward, she's a shooting guard. Like you. And she's quite good."

Korra turned to watch the girl, her thick, black hair tied low behind her neck. Tenzin kept talking, and Korra almost felt like she was watching some National Geographic documentary.

"The tall girl uses her height as an advantage, tricking players into mating with her, then drinking their blood. The black hair is used to entice foolish mates, and the green eyes paralyze them. Creatures are drawn in with her mesmerizing movements. The basketball shooting is a ritual mating dance.

"See how the lithe body glides gracefully over the floor, weaving in and out of bodies, to deftly shoot the ball into the rim."

Korra blinked. She might've dubbed her own running commentary over Tenzin's more boring one, but she was pretty sure he said something about the girl being quick and Korra being the only one able to keep up with her. She turned to watch the girl once more.

_**30 minutes to game time:** _

Okay she's not that good. She's just kinda good. Like for a pretty girl. Whatever.

_**20 minutes to game time:** _

I can't believe she's fucking wearing make up. That does not make her pretty.

_**19 minutes to game time:** _

Well maybe just a little. A little pretty.

_**16 minutes to game time:** _

Okay, yeah, she's actually pretty, even if she weren't wearing make up.

_**14 minutes to game time:** _

Fine. She's pretty hot. Fucking bitch.

_**10 minutes to game time:** _

How the fuck is her hair perfect all the time? Are we filming a K drama here? Is she a poor girl who will win over the snotty rich boy?

_**5 minutes to game time:** _

Hot girls have hot girl attitudes. I'm gonna destroy her.

* * *

 

As warm ups were closing and the announcers were getting ready to do the lineups, Korra sat on the bench with a huff. In one hour she'd gone from from being indifferent on the Sato girl to absolutely loathing her.

"Captains!"

Coincidentally, the beautiful, elegant, prissy, rich (or poor, depending on if this was a movie script) girl ended up standing across Korra. She gave Korra a warm, closed-mouthed smile, which Korra returned with her deepest loathe. She made sure to squeeze her hand extra hard during the handshake, ignoring how soft they felt.

They took their places on the court, Korra jogging over to where number 22 stood. Sato was shaking her arms out when she saw Korra, and a smile crossed her face.

"Hey, you again," she said cheerfully.

"Yeah, me again," Korra said gruffly. She didn't meet the taller girl's eyes. The girl kept smiling, ignoring the fact that Korra was trying very much to choke her through telekinesis.

"Good luck!"

Korra couldn't spare a word without wanting to roll her eyes at the same time, so instead she just gave a noncommittal grunt. It was one of her finer literary masterpieces.

The whistle blew and the game started. Korra's thoughts about Sato disappeared and she concentrated on running the game. Midway through the first quarter though, she realized several things quite clearly.

Korra had no trouble scoring. She was the leading scorer in her conference after all. But she couldn't guard this girl for shit. Sato wove too smoothly, cut too fast, spun too quickly. And on the off chance that Korra managed to keep up with her, she'd step back and drain a three. All while her hair was perfect. It was maddening.

Sato had managed to match Korra almost point for point. By the time half time came around, the Bisons were only up three points. Which pissed Korra off more than that pretty girl because she'd been expecting to roll over this team.

She took a towel and wiped the sweat off her face. She slumped onto a bench, grabbing one of the water bottles being passed out. Opal sat down next to her.

"Dayum that girl is good, son."

Korra smiled at her horrible accent. "No she's not." Her pride refused to admit that the hot girl could be better than her.

You can't be hot, and super girly, and great at sports. It defies all logic of attractive human beings. When you're born, you get three choices. The spirits tell you pick two, and only two.

Something has to be wrong. _And she's nice!_ Korra groaned. No way. Hottie McHotterson can't be nice on top of that. That must be fake. And she must be dumb as a rock as well. You just can't have it all.

"Korra, Sato is running you around the floor like a rabbit," Tenzin pointed out.

"Yeah, thanks coach, I was there." Praise the heavens for sarcasm.

"No time for snotty remarks, Korra. I think I can help. You've got to get tighter."

Korra shot him a look. Tenzin stroked his beard thoughtfully, nodding along to his own brilliant plan that would probably lead to Korra's demise.

"Yes, get in her space. Don't give her separation; that's how she's leaving you behind."

"Yeah thanks Coach, I'll let you know how it goes."

* * *

 

Korra had no intention of doing what Tenzin suggested. She would beat Sato her own way. She also had no intention of getting in closer to that...that...thing. The creature that defied logic.

"Hi," the chimera-Sato said smiling as Korra jogged up to her once more.

"Yo," Korra managed this time, while also suppressing her primal urge to growl. The whistle blew again.

She'd managed to play the third quarter her way. Sure, the Sato unicorn had managed to keep up with her, but at least they were still maintaining a five point lead.

Except five points were not enough. And it was giving Tenzin stress. Fourth Quarter Tenzin was already bad enough. He got antsy once the last quarter was played.

_Every. Single. Game._

Fourth Quarter Tenzin was now engaging Tenzin Stress Level 10. And Tenzin stress conducted into Korra like a lightning rod, because he started spluttering at her to stop giving number 22 so much room to shoot. Korra stepped forward, putting her hand on the girl's hip, taking away her space to manuver. So Sato passed to her open teammate, who knocked down a jumper.

Fucking infuriating. Korra blew a breath out through her nose, resisting the urge to fling the ball high into the stands. She couldn't get a technical now. She flicked her chin at Opal, who was waiting with the ball in her hands.

Korra took the inbound pass and dribbled down the court. She scanned the players' positions, though it was a wasted effort. She had known what she wanted to do as soon as Sato had passed that ball. She dribbled left, then cut right, driving to the basket, spinning the ball off the backboard as it bounced off the glass and slid through the netting.

Fuck yeah.

Bring it Sato. _Bring it._

Korra was feeling it. She was gonna take this game. Sato jogged back, and Korra moved to guard her.

_Not getting room to do anything this time, pretty girl._

As soon as the point guard passed the ball to Sato, Korra hopped all over her. She kept a hand on her back, preventing her from going anywhere, and her left hand blocked the passing lane to the corner. Sato looked surprised at Korra's sudden aggressive defense. Korra smirked.

_What up yo? Whatcha gonna do now?_

Sato seemed to sense Korra's thoughts, because she swiveled her tall head left and right, trying to find an open teammate. Her efforts were hindered by Korra's hands and arms obstructing her vision. Finally, she pivoted, arching her body to use her one advantage over Korra: her height.

Sato passed the ball over Korra's head. But Korra was determined. She flung her hands up, arms tangling with her opponent. She felt a foot get snagged as she tried to turn, her momentum pulling her towards the floor. But Sato's arms were still tangled with hers, and Korra was not going to try and separate them.

_If I go down, you're coming with me._

She saw the other girl start to topple as well.

Korra wasn't sure how it happened. It was pretty fast. Like speed of light fast. What she did know was that after her hip jolted in pain from landing on the hardwood floor, Sato jolted in surprise as she landed on Korra's...boobs.

Korra was on her back, legs up and elbows propped. Somehow Sato had managed to fall directly in between Korra's legs, and her hands, which were thrust out to stop her fall, were now resting on Korra's breasts.

Korra gaped at the hands on her chest, the total shock of the moment taking away her response. Likewise, Sato was staring at her hands, as if she couldn't believe how she had ended up landing on another player in a most...compromising position.

After what seemed minutes, but were probably seconds, they looked up at each other, and Korra absolutely dreaded the eye contact. Their eyes met, and wow, Sato's eyes were fucking beautiful. Bright green, and they made the green on her jersey stand out even more. Her face was perfect porcelain. Her jawline tapered nicely to frame her red lips. Black hair fell towards Korra's face, and for no reason at all, she wanted that curtain of hair to fall all around her. There's a smell of roses, and amber, and citrus and Korra had to blow out a breath to steady herself. Oh wow. I am fucked.

Korra was staring, and she knew it, but she couldn't look away, and Sato didn't either. Korra's leg twitched, her body responding of its own volition as it moved to wrap around the other girl's waist.

They were on the ground in a sexually implied position for far too long, but neither of them seemed to care.

Luckily for her, Sato broke them out of the trance before Korra did anything stupid.

Sato laughed, and Korra couldn't help but smile as well. The other girl started to lean back, but Korra shot a hand out to grab Sato's shoulder. She responded by gripping Korra under the elbows, pulling her up at the same time. She was still laughing, and shit, if Korra wasn't sure if she was hot before, she was definitely not on the fence anymore. She caught another whiff of Sato's perfume and got hit with some vertigo.

It must from standing up too quickly.

It's only now that Korra realizes teammates from both sides have started to gather. They were just laying in the middle of the floor looking like they're gonna do the do, so it's probably warranted. Luckily the ref hadn't called a foul on either of them, but Korra suspected it had to do with the very large blush creeping over his face.

The ref blew the whistle again, indicating time in. Korra ran back down to her side of the court, Sato following her as well. Korra signaled their number two formation, but when she pulled up for the shot, something didn't feel right. The ball clanked off the rim. Thankfully her tall ass teammate saved her by grabbing the rebound and putting it in.

Korra ran back down the court, utterly confused. She never missed that jumper, ever. She'd practiced that exact shot at least a thousand times. She could shoot it blindfolded. What the hell?

A swish of black hair brought her to the present. Sato had the ball again, dribbling like she had five motherfucking aces up her sleeve.

Uh oh. Korra was not ready.

Sato broke right, and Korra tried to follow. But the taller girl spun, reversing direction, tripping Korra up, and driving to the basket. Korra knew as soon as Sato spun, it was over. She'd been shaked and baked. She shook her head, inhaling deeply. And there was that scent again.

Sato was already running back to the other side of the court. Korra looked at the clock. Forty five seconds left. They were up by seven points. Korra prayed it would be enough of a lead, because she was utterly useless at this point.

Sato. 22.

_Oh, what's that sound?_

That's a crush.

 _Fuck_.

Korra took the pass and dribbled, bringing it over mid court. She stood there, taking her time, trying to run out the clock. She held up four fingers, signaling a formation that included her the least. Sato charged forward, and Korra flung the ball to Opal.

Thankfully, the Bisons managed to hold on for the win.

Air Temple Bisons 82 - Republic City Dragonbirds 79

Korra puffed her cheeks and blew out a breath. Thank god. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sato coming. She was not looking forward to this. What do you say to someone who was just between your legs and had her hands on your chest? Who you had hated an hour ago and now possibly had a crush on?

_How much for the hour?_

No no.

_Heeeey, so that was fun. Let's do it again._

Nope.

_I really like you and think we should be together._

Definitely not.

"Hey good game," Sato said as she made the opening move. Looks like she was going to make Awkward Korra even awkwarder. Sato stood in front of her casually, a hand planted on her hip.

"Yeaaah, you too," Korra said, a little unsure of how relaxed she was allowed to be. But Sato held out her hand.

"You know, I've heard about you, you're really good. You played on the Junior Nationals team a couple of years ago right?"

Korra looked up, surprised the girl had heard of her AND was paying her a compliment. She spotted the hand Sato had been holding out, and lunged for it quickly.

"Sorry," Korra said, shaking the hand. "Nice to meet you. Anyway, I'll see you around, Sato." She made to drop the hand. But Sato gripped her hand tighter.

"Asami."

"Huh?"

"My name's Asami."

"Oh, hah, yeah, my name's Korra," she quickly recovered. Asami smiled and Korra smiled back at those green eyes and it was a good thing the conversation was over because Korra suddenly forgot how to use words. Asami let go of her hand, turning to walk to the locker room. She watched Asami walk away, eyes drifting to watch her backside sway.

Oh she was most definitely fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just supposed to be a one-shot, but I have an idea for a second chapter, so I may write that. No promises, so please don't yell at me.


	2. So we meet again....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra would be lying if she said she forgot all about Asami Sato. She may or may not have looked her up on Facebook, cursor hovering over the Add Friend button. She may or may not have stayed up to date with Republic City Athletics to see how their basketball team had been faring. And she may or may not have been daydreaming about her once, or twice, or eight times.

Mornings suck.

Korra slid into a seat, groaning as she let gravity take over. The old wooden seat groaned in response. The creaking of the chair seemed to amplify as it echoed off the small walls in the conference room.

“Shut up, you stupid chair, at least you can’t hear. I have to listen to another long ass meeting.” Why did most of her life seem to be confined to meetings?

Except Korra wasn’t really bummed out by this meeting. Quite excited actually. About three weeks before the semester ended, she got an invitation to play with the National team, sort of like a precursor to the Olympics, and if you were lucky, the pros. She’d been so excited when she got the news, she’d forgotten about a paper due in Eastern Philosophy and only passed when Tenzin intervened.

Korra scanned the filled room, recognizing most of the faces. She had already met the three coaches at the front: Lin Beifong, and her assistants, Suyin and Kya. Suyin was Lin’s younger sister and Kya was a former teammate. All three were top notch players in their day. Could probably still beat most of them into the ground too. In the first row was the weirdo from Northern University, Eska. Behind her, Zhu Li from Southern University (who names these places anyway?). There was Ginger, the redhead who was really a blonde and Korra wondered for a moment about the legitimacy of the team. She recognized Ming Hua from the large tattoos running down her arms and--

“Korra!” said a deep voice she knew all too well. She looked up into a face she had really hoped wouldn’t be here: Kuvira. She reminded Korra of herself, what with her extreme fitness regimen and intense desire to succeed. Except Korra wasn’t crazy. As in bat shit crazy. Her fingers tensed around desk corners and she took a deep breath.

“Oh hi,” Korra replied noncommittally.

“When am I gonna get to challenge you?”

Korra actively bit back the snotty “never” that was rising in her throat. Be nice, Korra, this is a teammate now.

“Maybe later. I don’t want to get hurt and kicked off this team.” Phew, diplomacy.

“Fine,” Kuvira accepted, thought her face had a clear look of irritation. Her already intense eyebrows pursed and she stalked away.

Korra blew out a breath of relief. Ever since she met Kuvira, back when they were tiny ten years olds on a rec ball team, she’d been challenging Korra to one on one. It was especially ridiculous one summer over basketball camp, when she even tried asking while Korra was taking a shit. Then there was that one time she showed up in her ceramics class, and they weren’t even from the same high school. She shuddered.

Korra's eyes fell on the tall girl in the room, standing out like the Future Industries tower in Republic City. She spotted the shaved sides of her head and knew it was P’Li from Ember Island University. She’d never met the girl, but heard of her, mostly because she was a skyscraper and had a habit of headbutting opponents.

Someone else was in front of P’li, but she couldn’t see them. She craned her neck left and right, up and down, but goddamn it P’Li, would you just slouch once in a while?!

Coach Lin stepped up to the tiny podium, addressing the team. Korra pulled out her old school notebook, deciding that this was important enough to take notes. She said stuff like they were chosen because of their outstanding athletic ability, and should be grateful that they were given this opportunity.

“But don’t think I owe you anything!” she said sharply. “We decide who plays and who catches splinters. You prove yourselves to us!”

Yes sir, Coach Lin, sir! Korra caught herself saluting and quickly played it off like she was pushing her hair back, thankful she was in the last row.

“Okay, while here, you’ll be dorming, so I’ll give you your room assignments now." Beifong reached for a clipboard and began crisply reading the names off.

“Ming Hua, you’re with Ginger. Kuvira, you’re with Zhu Li.” The four girls began looking around making eye contact with each other.

“P’Li, you’re rooming with Sato.” Korra froze. Sato. She knew that name.

Sato. #22.

 _Asami_.

She’s here. Asami Sato, #22, is here.

Lin was still talking. “And that leaves Eska with Korra.” Korra saw the dark mane of hair in front of P’li look up, like a dog who just heard a squeaky toy.

_Aw fuck._

Korra would be lying if she said she forgot all about Asami Sato. She may or may not have looked her up on Facebook, cursor hovering over the Add Friend button. She may or may not have stayed up to date with Republic City Athletics to see how their basketball team had been faring. And she may or may not have been daydreaming about her once, or twice, or eight times.

“Okay, everybody get some rest, we’ll see you tomorrow at practice bright and early,” Lin finished. Chairs started scraping the floor and the familiar shuffle of bags began. Korra refused to look up. She sat there, pen in her hand, hovering over the light blue lines in her notebook.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. _Oh shit!_

Asami is here! The same Asami with the perfect hair and the amazing basketball skills and the gorgeous eyes and the really cute laugh. The same Asami who I knocked to the floor and touched my boobs! She got to second base with my shirt on!

Maybe if she waited there long enough, Asami would leave and she wouldn't make a fool of herself? Was she gone? Korra tried to feel out the room, using her peripheral vision to see if anyone was still there. She couldn’t tell.

Unable to stand the suspense any longer, she glanced up. Asami had spotted her and was making her way over. Korra quickly propped an elbow on the desk, hiding behind a hand. _Don’t be an ass, don’t be an ass, don’t be an ass--_

“Hey Korra,” that sweet, angelic voice called her.

No, no. _Wait_. That wasn’t the voice she remembered. She looked up, confused. Standing over her was Coach Lin Beifong.

_Oh now that makes sense._

“I heard you sprained an ankle at the end of the season, how’s it holding up?”

“Oh good,” she said, “Great actually. I’m ready to go!”

“Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lin said turning. Her attention focused elsewhere, she almost walked face first into Asami.

Surprised, and possibly a little irritated, Lin said, "What do you want?" to Asami a little tartly.

"Just saying hi to Korra," she replied politely, undeterred by Beifong's callousness. Lin looked surprised.

"You two know each other already?"

Korra was about to answer before Asami beat her to it.

"The first time we met I ended up in between Korra's legs."

Korra's mouth dropped open.

Oh my fucking god.

_She didn’t._

She did not just say that to the head coach.

_She did._

Beifong looked surprised for a moment before quickly recovering.

"Uh huh," she humphed, shaking her head as she walked away. Korra gaped, silent and open mouthed at Asami. The other girl met Korra's eyes, mischief dancing in those emerald gems. Just when it felt like she would say something, Asami winked, flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked away.

Korra gawked for a few more seconds, the last few moments still processing in her brain. When it finally hit her, she quickly scooped all her things into her duffle and chased after that wavy black hair.

"Hey," Korra called after Asami, "Hey!" She pushed her brown hair out of her eyes, catching her breath. Asami stood by silently, waiting for her to recover.

"Why...why did you do that?" Korra asked Asami incredulously. Asami grinned.

"Well I thought it'd be funny, plus it's cute to see you blush." As if on cue, Korra's cheeks reddened. Asami started walking again; Korra leapt to keep up. She caught a whiff of that perfume, and godamnit, it was just as distracting as it was the last time they met. Korra’s reply got stuck in her throat.

"I'm not the least bit surprised to see you here, you were a pick for sure. I'm pretty sure I got in by the skin of my teeth,” Asami said to continue the conversation.

Pretty, witty AND humble? _Excuse me while I swoon._

Asami was looking at Korra, an undecipherable emotion on her face. Korra realized the extended silence presented the wrong impression. She quickly corrected herself.

“I think you definitely deserve to be on this team. You should be starting.”

Asami smiled slightly, giving a soft chuckle. “We’ll see. Anyway, I’m glad to see you here; it’s nice having a familiar face around. I don’t know anyone here.”

Korra’s heart thudded. She’s happy to see me? Fucking A. I’m happy to see her. And scared. And aroused. Scaproused?

“It’s good to see you again too.”

Asami smiled once more, and this time it reached her eyes. The emerald orbs locked with Korra’s cerulean ones and she felt her breath hitch. She felt her heart beat faster and slower at the same time.

“Well, this is my stop.” Asami turned down a small pathway. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” She cheerfully waved goodbye. Korra waved a hand dumbly in response. She stumbled the rest of the way home, clumsily opening the door.

Collapsing on her bed, she smiled into her pillow. Asami was here. Here! Calm your crush Korra, you’re drooling. She punched her pillow. Biting her lip, she coughed away the embarrassing giggle that threatened to spill over.

_She was so fucked._

* * *

The next morning, Korra angrily mashed her phone, trying to get the stupid alarm to SHUT UP. Once that mundane task was accomplished, she proceeded to lay in bed for a few more minutes, gathering the energy to drag herself out of bed, brush her teeth, get dressed, go to practice, see Asami--

Oh. _Asami_.

That’s right.

Korra threw the covers off. Hastily pulling on some practice clothes, she crammed her phone, shoes, a jacket and a towel in her duffel. She ran out the door, bypassing the look of disdain from her roommate, Eska.

Korra couldn’t recall a time that she’d rushed to a 6AM practice. Sure, she loved basketball, lived and breathed it, but morning practices could kiss her brown ass. She pushed open the double doors, relishing the new contrast of warmth inside the gym. She set down her bag, looking around. Apparently she was the first one there. First time for everything, she supposed.

As she pulled out her shoes, the large metal door swung open again. The breeze of cold air washed over Korra, and she knew who it was before she saw her.

Dressed in a loose-fitting racer back tank top and short gym shorts, Asami walked in with a black and maroon bag slung over her shoulder. Raven-black wavy hair up in a ponytail, banges pinned off to the side, she pushed a wide, flat headband over her forehead.  It seemed impossible, but Asami seemed to get hotter and hotter each time she saw her. Upon noticing Korra, she waved and walked over.

“Hey, I’m used to being the first one in the gym,” she said, taking a seat next to Korra, who was regaining her ability to breathe. Korra scratched the back of her head sheepishly.

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry, this isn’t a habit of mine.” _I just do it when the prospect of pretty girls who smell nice will be at practice._ Thank the spirits Asami couldn’t actually see the awkwardness emanating from Korra. She pulled her navy blue shooter sleeves over her arms, trying to seem more natural.

“Really? So what’s the big occasion?” Asami asked.

“I, uh, was just excited for practice,” Korra lied. “First one and all.” _Not because it’s the first one with you...or anything like that._

Asami gave her that familiar closed mouth eye smile. Korra looked away, trying to hide her blush as she pulled on her socks. By the time she was done tying her shoes, the rest of the team had arrived and were gearing up.

A sharp shrill brought everyone’s attention to Coach Beifong (the crankier one). She dropped the whistle from her mouth and held up a clipboard.

“Every practice is outlined here on this board. Everyday, I will have what we will be doing, down to the minute during any given session.” She looked around, as if daring someone to question her judgement. When no such argument arose, she blew her whistle once more to signal the start of practice.

* * *

Korra gave the button on the blender one final push, finally satisfied that the ice was sufficiently crushed. She poured her post-practice shake into a cup and took a long swig. Practice had gone a lot smoother than she had expected.

Thankfully, her infatuation with Asami didn’t hinder her in the least (okay, minus that time the ball hit her in the face cause she was watching Asami, or that time she got distracted and scored on the wrong basktet). In fact, they worked kind of well together (or so she’d like to think). Recalling the practice, she could see exactly why everyone was there.

P’Li was obviously a force near the basket, and despite her thin stature, she couldn’t be pushed around. Ginger was a surprising power forward, but with her “assets,” that was probably expected. Zhu Li was a precision point maker, and though Korra doubted she’d start, she’d probably see action if they really needed some quick threes. Korra wasn’t sure if she liked Ming Hua all that much. She had a tendency to drive really hard to the basket, picking up fouls, mostly her own. Not to mention the outbursts. She sometimes yelled at people, and Korra wondered if she had tourettes.

Eska was a surprising point guard. She didn’t say much, but she ran the floor with efficiency and precision. There was Kuvira. She could make any shot, moved across the floor with power and stamina, could finish the hard baskets inside, and could play lights out defense. The bitch.

And then there was Asami. Sigh. If someone wrote a ballet about basketball, they better fucking hire Asami to play the lead role, because she moved across the floor effortlessly. It wasn’t like a plastic bag drifting in the wind, but more like a firework shooting across the sky. Okay, so Korra wasn't exactly a poet.

Korra caught herself smiling as she thought about Asami. Embarrassed, she looked around, though she knew there was only one other person in the apartment. She made eye contact with Eska, who was sitting at the dining table. The other girl was unmoving, staring at Korra. Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, she screwed the cover over drink and retreated to her room.

* * *

Korra dropped her stuff in the empty gym, the plop echoing off the walls. It was all hers, just how she liked it.

Once Jay-Z was sounding off from her speaker, Korra rolled her shoulders, loosening up the muscles in her back. She dribbled the ball a couple of times, slowly walking to the basket. After a few more dribbles, she pulled up, shooting the ball through the orange metal hoop.

Swish.

The familiar sound of the ball sliding through the net relaxed her. She retrieved the ball, dribbling a couple of times before repeating the process. Before long, she gained a rhythm, varying her shots, some far, some close, some lay ups, some jumpers. She imagined invisible opponents, bouncing the ball between her legs, cutting left and right.

Late night shootarounds had become some what of a ritual for Korra. Practices were noisy, cluttered with extra arms and legs. Voice shouting everywhere, reverberating off the insides of skull. Korra liked the solitude of just shooting alone. It was easier to concentrate. Here she could improve. It was a place to work on weaknesses, where no one else could see what she was lacking.

The ball bounced on the floor, having fell from yet another made shot. Korra walked over to grab it, pulling her blue sleeves up, and wiping sweat from her brow. She checked her phone. 11:11 PM. It was getting late. She’d probably call it quits soon. The door to the gym opened. Curious, Korra looked to see who it was.

“Hey Korra,” Asami was walking in, scarf around her neck, holding a stack of papers.

“What are you doing here?” they asked each other at the same time. Asami giggled, hiding behind her hand. Korra grinned.

“I’m just shooting some baskets. I really much prefer practices late than early. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m going in the back to watch some film.” Asami held the papers in her hands a little higher.

“Really? Why?” Korra asked puzzled. “You’re good enough not to need to do that kind of stuff.”

Asami laughed, “Thanks, but I’m not that good. Game tape is how I get a jump on my opponent. I watch myself too. It’s a lot easier to see things that I need to get better at.”  _The self-humility thing makes her so hot. She has to stop being so...attractive._

“No way, really? I didn’t know you could do all that,” Korra responded, genuinely interested. She remembered Asami baffling her in their last game. “Did you watch film on me?”

Asami gave a little guilty look (that was completely adorable). “I did,” she said apologetically, “Sorry.” Korra waved away the apology.

“No no, that’s awesome, I just never knew…” Maybe there was something to watching game tape. She had always brushed it off, mostly because it was boring. But Asami did it, even though she didn’t need to. There must be something to it.

“You could come watch some film with me right now, I’m about to start now. It’s actually just tape of our teammates, so I can see how they work, you know, to work better with them.”

Korra couldn’t believe it. Asami was going to watch tape of her own teammates so she could help them. Amazing.

And she was invited to watch them with her. In a dark room, sitting next to each other on a bench, resting her head on Asami’s shoulder as they fell asleep in each other’s arms, her soft breaths lulling Korra to sleep---

Geezus Christ Korra. Stalker much? It’s a crush, remember? Crushes don't end well. Just treat her like a human being.

“Thank Asami, but I think I’m gonna pass. I don’t do too well in classroom settings.”

Asami nodded her head. “Sure no problem. See you later, Korra,” she called over her shoulder, already heading through the back door to the video room.

Korra blew out a breath. She could do this. Just a crush. Just a teammate. _Just Asami._

As the rest of the week passed, the more Korra was convinced she could make it through the summer as Asami’s teammate. Practice was great, as long as you weren’t getting yelled at by (one of the) Beifong’s. She still had her late night practices and sometime during it, Asami would stroll through and ask Korra if she wanted to join her. Korra declined each time, but her insides always lurched each time Asami offered.

On the eighth night of their little Q&A, Asami asked, “You wanna join me?” though she kept walking, already expecting Korra’s rejection.

“Sure.”

Asami stopped, turning around wide-eyed, to an equally-wide eyed Korra. She wasn’t even sure she said it. The word had slipped out, but it was too late to take back because Asami had since stopped and was waiting for Korra to catch up with her.

“Really?”

If she hadn’t seen Asami’s face, she might’ve been able to turn her down. If she hadn’t heard the delight in Asami’s voice, she might’ve been able to take back her answer. If that smile hadn’t been because of something she said, she might’ve been able to rebuff the other girl.

“Yup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you all convinced me. Not only did I write the second bit, but it's turned into a multi-chap slow burn. Heh. I apologize in advance to any of those good basketball players that I may offend with my lack of basketball skillz. Basketball was not my forte. Thanks for reading!


	3. You're the Michael to My Scottie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami and Korra worked together seamlessly, much like Michael and Scottie. Korra ebbed when Asami flowed, pushed when Asami pulled, drove in while Asami slipped out. 
> 
> Korea falls deeper down the rabbit hole.

This would not go well.

It was far too late to take back her answer, but Korra was terrified of being alone with Asami. What if Asami found out about Korra's….infatuation? It's one thing to be groped by her in front of a crowd, it's completely different to be alone with her in a room.

Asami pushed the door to the back room open, and Korra let out a breath of relief. Okay, so it wasn't dark. Well lit, actually. And there were comfy swivel chairs. After Asami put down the papers in her arms, she reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out snacks.

Fire Flakes, Cabbage Chips, Fried Dough Aangs and Cactus Juice. Asami had a veritable feast. Korra's eyes widened. She tried to stick to a healthy diet, but being presented with some of her favorite snacks had loosened her leash a little.

"How did you know?" she asked Asami. The other girl looked at her, perplexed. "How did you know there were my favorite snacks?" Korra clarified. Asami laughed politely behind a hand.

"I didn't. These are my favorites. I always have a good stash for late night study sessions. We're definitely going to need Cactus Juice if we're going to get anything done."

Korra grinned. Her nervousness seemed to float away. She sat down, spinning in the chair, attempting her most evil villainous voice. "Well then show me the plans you have to destroy the world!"

Asami sat in the chair next to her, giving Korra the most sensual diabolical smolder in the history of the world.

"Pay close attention, my minion, for this is my plot to rule the universe!"

In the end, it wasn't anything like Korra had expected. There was no hand holding or falling asleep or anything like that. In fact, Asami was a machine. A beautiful, nice-smelling, basketball-playing, diagram-making machine. She watched each clip multiple times, sometimes slowly, sometimes speeding it up. She drew play formations until the X's and O's mixed and Korra was seeing crosshairs everywhere. She pointed things out to Korra that had never been noticed before.

"See that twitch she does there? That means she wants to drive left," or "You hesitated a fraction of a second too long there. You would've had an opening down in the post."

Korra watched the games, intrigued, but she found herself often stealing glances at the girl next to her. Her breath got caught when Asami's face lit up as she noticed a little tic or opening she hadn't seen before. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards when Asami's brow furrowed, quickly scribbling down a note about a player's bad habit, and her heart always thudded harder whenever those green eyes looked at her, smile upon red lips.

So a new routine was born for Korra. Show up at the gym, shoot for a half an hour, then Asami would arrive. Together they'd practice, working on their shooting, improving their agility, sharpening their skills. Then they'd retreat to the back room, going over film together. At the end of the night, they'd say their goodbyes, Korra riding her bicycle back to her dorm, Asami driving her car. Korra didn't really care for routine, but this was one she could get used to.

The more time she spent with Asami, the smaller her infatuation became. The initial crush she harbored fell away. All she wanted was time with Asami. Hanging out with her was easy. Maybe it was because Asami was willing to admit that she wasn't a perfect player, and it made it easier for Korra to concede that there were parts of her game that could use improvement as well. Or maybe it was because she was understanding. Or nice. Or pretty. Or everything. Korra stopped caring about who she was around Asami. She wasn't Korra, star basketball player, but just Korra, girl who was friends with Asami.

Together, they became better, encouraging each other. Soon Korra began to learn things about Asami, and she shared some with her as well. Like how Asami really liked banana mango smoothies, or that her secret talent was catching green lights. Korra shared how she always seemed to pick the shitty cart while grocery shopping, and that she had a dog at home, Naga, whom she missed a lot. She wasn't afraid when Asami asked her questions about herself.

"Why won't you ever play me one-on-one? Or anyone for that matter?" she asked once as they were walking out.

Korra shook her head. "I just don't think it's necessary. It doesn't prove anything. Basketball's a team sport. If you play someone one-on-one, it's just a desire to show that you're better than someone." Asami laughed at her, shaking her pretty little head.

"What?" said Korra, a little annoyed now that she got the feeling she was being made fun of.

"Nothing," Asami smiled. "You're just full of surprises."

* * *

At practice, their study sessions didn't go unnoticed by Beifong. She pointed out that Asami and Korra worked together seamlessly, much like Michael and Scottie. Who was who was up to debate.

It didn't go unnoticed by Korra either. She ebbed when Asami flowed, pushed when Asami pulled, drove in while Asami slipped out. Their teamwork was so easy. She knew where Asami was on the court all the time, even without having to look for her. No look passes became almost second nature for them.

Today's particular practice had been hell. Somehow the coaches got the idea that their conditioning was lacking, and they ran a thousand suicides. Or at least Korra thought it was a thousand; she lost count after the first twenty-five. Korra pulled her socks off gingerly. The normal mundane task seemed much more difficult because her legs suddenly weighed ten times their usual weight.

The rest of the girls began to make their way to the locker room showers, but Coach Lin held her back, going over a couple of formations and details with her. By the time Korra got to the locker room, most of the team had already left. She pushed the door in wearily, looking forward to the hot water that awaited her.

A flash of red almost caused her to smash her face in the paper towel dispenser.

"Hey Korra, aren't you gonna wash up?" said Asami, holding the towel wrapped around her body with one hand, toiletry bag in the other, hair tied up messily.

Oh hey Asami. In a red towel. _Naked_ under said towel.

 _Heeey_.

"Hi!" she squeaked out, her voice higher than a castrated tenor. Asami arched a sculpted eyebrow at her. Korra coughed.

"Yup," was about all Korra could manage, lips squished together, eyes trying and failing to look anywhere but at Asami's exposed skin. Blue eyes darted all over, not lingering in one place longer than a split second at a time. She felt her face getting hot, her hands getting clammy. "Yup, so I'm just gonna, you know, go to the locker room, over there."

Korra turned away quickly, hiding her blush and quickly walking to the locker room. It took her a full minute to open her locker with her trembling fingers, mostly because she was shaking away X-rated visions of Asami in the shower. Water streaming down her snowy skin, traveling from her neck, down her chest, to her-

 _Eep_.

She slammed the door shut, rushed to the showers, and trapped herself within the solitude of a single shower stall. The latch on the door clicked, leaving Korra to wash away her shame and contemplate why the spirits should hate her so.

When Korra had finished showering, she walked back into the changing area and was greeted with the sight of Asami's lean body, clad only in underwear. Wavy black hair fell from a messy bun, giving Korra a full view of her back, and her eyes wandered down the muscular lines, to the dip in her back, where black lacy panties hid the taller girl's perfectly shaped butt.

 _Oh fuck my life._ Surprised her body hadn't already burst into flames, Korra scooped up her clothes before Asami could turn around, deciding that changing in the toilet stall was the safest bet.

 _I should've brought a pen and paper with m_ e, she thought as she latched the stall closed. _Could've written my will and the effigy for my tombstone. Here lies Korra, likely died of a heart attack because she saw Asami Sato (almost) naked. I leave all my worldly belongings to Naga. Except my diary and porn stash, please delete that._

She snorted. They probably needed a really big plot of land for all the deaths that resulted from seeing Asami without clothes. Maybe even a memorial.

When she finally emerged, she found Asami waiting for her. "Hey, thought you might've gotten stuck in there," she smiled.

_Oh no no, I was hoping the toilet might swallow me up, but better luck next time._

"How come you're still here?" Korra asked Asami. "I figured you'd be gone by now."

"I was leaving, then I noticed your stuff was still here. I was just hanging out to make sure that your stuff didn't go missing."

"Oh," Korra said, rubbing the back of her head, "Thanks." She shoveled her belongings into her duffle and followed Asami out of the locker room and onto the sidewalk. The usual five minute drive would take about twenty minutes to walk, but thanks to the great weather lately, it wasn't a big deal. They did have other means of transportation, but seeing as how darkness nor sleep threatened to take them, it was worth the extra minutes.

"So you got plans for today?" Asami asked offhandedly.

_Daydreaming about me and you riding off into the sunset on a dragon maybe._

"Nope, no plans. Probably just take a nap and try not to get weirded out by Eska." When Asami arched an eyebrow at her, Korra continued, "So my roommate has a twin, Desna, and they Facetime or whatever. Except they don't say anything. They just stare at each other for an hour or so, and then one of them says, 'Bye' or something and she shuts the computer. It's the strangest thing ever."

Asami laughed, and Korra's face flushed, because Asami's laugh does that to people.

"Well it's got to be better than my roommate."

"Doubt it," Korra muttered.

"Oh yeah? I've talked to P'li twice. The rest of the time she's always writing letters to her boyfriend."

"What? Why? Who even writes letters anymore? That's so hipster and 1950's."

Asami nodded in approval. "You're right, it is. But she doesn't have a choice, because he's in prison right now and that's the only way they can communicate. He's not even allowed visits."

"No way," Korra said astonished.

"Yes way," Asami said excitedly. "He used to be a really good MMA fighter then he killed some dude outside of bar yelling, "He's the Avatar!"

"Whaaaat?!"

"Yeah, they took blood tests and found out he was high on cocaine, meth and MDMA, AND he'd been doping on steroids. So now he's in a maximum security federal prison and ineligible for parole for another fifteen years."

"Yo that's crazy," Korra commented. Asami nodded in agreement.

"How did we get stuck with such crazy roommates?"

"Well, I think it could be worse," Korra said.

"How so?"

"Well, Kuvira is pretty cuckoo, 'cause she's convinced she's better than me and always wants to play one-on-one. I'm pretty sure Ming Hua has tourettes, Ginger is waaaay too touchy feely and Zhu Li has this fiancee who just shows up at random times yelling 'Do the thing!' I don't even want to guess what 'the thing' is."

The corner of Asami's mouth dropped to a little "o." Yeah, it could definitely be worse.

"Well, do you want to hang out with someone semi-normal for a change?" Asami offered.

"I would, but all my friends are back at Air Temple U."

Asami shoved Korra playfully. "No you nerd, I mean hang out with me."

 _YES!_ was the immediate answer in Korra's head. _FUCK YES!_ was her secondary answer.

"Okay," was the answer she actually said.

A strange wave of nervousness overcame Korra, and she fidgeted as she unlocked the door. Letting someone into your home, even a temporary one, was a display of trust. She could be scrutinized and judged, and Korra wasn't exactly one to take criticism well. Asami strode in, politely waiting for Korra to lead.

_Just be cool._

"Okay so this is the kitchen," Korra said, motioning to the small area with a stove, fridge and microwave, "and this is is the living room. Those two doors are the bedrooms." Asami laughed.

"Thanks for the tour, but you do know that I live in carbon copy of this exact apartment, right?"

Korra slapped herself in the face. "No no. Yes, I did. I am just a huge idiot."

Asami just laughed again. "So can I leave my bag here?"

They had just gotten comfortable on the couch and were about to turn on the TV when Eska came in.

"What is she doing here?" she asked, indicating Asami, in a flat, colorless voice.

"We're, uh, hanging out," Korra finished lamely. _Trying to seduce her with charm_ would've been a more accurate answer, but that probably wasn't appropriate in present company.

"Be quiet then," Eska's monotone voice told her. She opened her computer and sat at the dining area.

Korra and Asami exchanged silent, wide-eyed looks. They peered over the back of the couch like agents on a secret mission. From their hideout, they could see Eska and her computer. On the screen was Eska; it appeared she was recording herself. Except she wasn't recording herself, and the person on screen was her male twin, Desna. Asami pulled Korra down.

"No way!" she mouthed, as if she didn't believe Korra the first time she told her. They looked back up.

The twins were staring at each other, unmoving, silent. Korra wondered how long they'd have to stay there, giggling with no sound, making terrible hand signs. Then Asami tapped her on the shoulder. Somehow she had found a deck of playing cards.

So they played silent card games for the next half an hour (it was especially fun to indicate Jacks in a game of GoFish). After about forty-five minutes, they heard noise from the dining table.

"That was fun," Eska said, voice still empty of emotion.

"I agree," Korra heard a voice from computer, equally devoid of feeling. The computer snapped shut, and Korra turned around quickly so she didn't appear to be spying. Eska didn't give her a second thought as she tramped to her room and shut the door.

"See! I told you!" Korra turned on Asami as soon as the lock clicked. The raven-hair girl only chuckled, and Korra decided right then and there that Asami's laugh could be her alarm, and she'd be okay with waking up to it everyday.

"Okay, sorry, you were right," Asami got out in between giggles, "you win the Bizarre Roommate Award." Korra nudged the other girl playfully in the ribs.

"Ow!" The laughter stopped immediately when Asami winced in pain, clutching the area near her left rib cage.

"I'm sorry," Korra apologized frantically, "I didn't mean to hurt you!"

_Wat are you doing?!_

"No," Asami waved her off, "It's not you. I got hard fouled today." Korra frowned. That's right. How could she forget? She remembered the play. Korra had passed the ball to Asami, noticing the gap in the zone. Asami dribbled forward a few feet, going for the easy lay up. Instead, Kuvira rushed in from nowhere, elbows high, and Asami ended up on the floor, holding her side, gasping for air. It was a stupid foul.

"That was a stupid foul," Korra said, repeating exactly what she had just said in her head. "Kuvira was out of line."

"Mm, she does seem a tad overzealous." Asami slowly sat up again, wind coming back to her in easy breaths.

"You have no idea," Korra said seriously.

"You sounds like you speak from experience," Asami said. So Korra told her about her history with Kuvira. All the shit-talking the other girl spewed, the times she kept trying to force her to one-on-one, even that time she tried to get a written petition going because Korra was voted conference MVP over her.

"And those eyebrows," Korra rolled her eyes, "I swear she does that just so she looks more intimidating."

"Yeah," Asami agreed, "Those eyebrows remind me of this guy Mako I used to date." Korra shot up from the couch.

"What?!" Asami looked around, assuming there had to at least be a roach somewhere.

"You're THAT Asami?"

"Excuse me?" she sounded affronted. Korra was too excited to even bother apologizing.

"Ok, so one of my best friends went away to camp one year, and when he came back, he said he met a girl and they went out and kissed and we didn't believe him 'cause, well, it's Mako. He didn't have a picture of you or anything, but he had your phone number and sometimes we'd hear him talking to you, but we never met you. So we started asking him if you were really real, and he kept getting mad, so we just started calling him 'Catfish Mako.'"

Asami nodded her head, processing all the information messily thrown at her.

"But one day he said you were gone and we still hadn't met you, but every year on the day he said you guys broke up we have this big barbecue and eat catfish in his honor."

"You're kidding right," skepticism dripping form Asami's voice.

"Nope," Korra said grinning. "We still give him shit about it today." Korra sat back down on the couch, turning back to her friend. "So you really are that Asami?"

Asami gave a small roll of her eyes and a small shrug.

"So what's the whole story?" Korra's curiosity was threatening her good manners. Asami drew in a deep breath. She looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to hurl or sock Korra.

"So one year, my father decided that I should go to band camp for the summer. It was alright, but lonely; none of my friends from school were there, so I mostly spent my time alone. Then one day, we're practicing formations-"

"Wait, wait, back up. This was BAND CAMP?"

"Yeah so?"

"I can't believe you were in band! Such a nerd! Mako didn't want to tell us what kind of camp it was either!" Korra chortled. Asami ignored Korra's guffawing and went on with her story.

"Anyway, we're practicing marching formations, and this trumpet turns in the wrong direction completely, and runs somehow runs into me, we trip and bring down the whole band. That trumpet was Mako."

Asami paused, letting Korra's choked wheezing fill the room before continuing.

"So we talked, and sat next to each other at lunch, and then one day by the lake, we kissed. Then went out, and held hands, the whole nine yards. And that was kind of it. I broke it off a few months later because we lived so far apart. Not much else to it. He was really nice, if not a little uptight."

"Oh yeah," Korra commented. "That he is. But he's a really great friend."

"So are you," Asami replied.

"What? No, I'm really not," Korra spluttered, caught off guard by the compliment.

"Yes you are," Asami countered. "I see you telling the other girls what we see on tape at practice; you're like a second coach, and you're a great listener. I'm really glad to have you as a friend, Korra." Asami squeezed her hand gently. "If you ever want to talk, or anything, I'm here too."

Korra blushed, and despite her brown skin, she was sure Asami could see the bright red tinge burning her cheeks.

"Thanks Asami. Thanks for being my friend too."

* * *

 Then life went on. There's practice in the morning, skill sessions at night. During the day, Korra and Asami become almost inseparable, and if you were looking for one, you'd probably find the other. They go grocery shopping, and it's as Asami is speeding through the streets that Korra realizes how she "catches" all the green lights. Korra makes Asami protein mango smoothies after practices, and Asami always has Fire Flakes on her kitchen counter. They binge watch Orange is the New Black, and the next time they get froyo, Asami chants "chocolate and vanilla, swirl, swirl," as she makes her bowl. Korra only blushes as a different kind of swirl came to mind.

Asami's diet of Cactus Juice and all-nighters means she falls asleep at random times. The first time Asami fell asleep on her shoulder watching Netflix, Korra had a mild panic attack, refusing to move for two hours lest she disturb the sleeping princess. By the fourth time, she forewent all manners and shoved Asami off her when she had to pee. By the sixth time though, she would gently slide Asami's head into her lap, pushing the hair that had fallen off her face.

It's dangerous, Korra knows, that she's letting herself fall deeper with Asami. She's holding feelings that probably won't ever be returned. Over and over she tries to soften the blow by telling herself that Asami probably doesn't like girls, but something in her chest keeps hoping against hope. But that doesn't stop her from getting closer. It's a late one night when things finally reach a tipping point.

"Shit! Fuck! Goddamn!"

Korra froze, leg in midair, just about to mount her bike. Her positioning most closely resembling a dog relieving himself on a fire hydrant. "Asami?" she called over her shoulder. They'd just told each other goodnight after their usual night workout.

"My car won't start!" said a muffled voice from inside the car. Korra rode over to the black coupe.

"I think the battery's dead," Asami said unhappily. "I can fix that no problem, but I won't be able to get a new one until tomorrow." Korra nodded. Asami had told her about her dad's car business and how she could assemble and disassemble a motorcycle completely. But none of that would help them now.

"Do you want to just hop on my bike with me?" Korra offered. When Asami tossed a skeptical look at her reliable old mountain bike, Korra elaborated, "Look it's after midnight. No one's going to help us. The dorms are just a short ride away, and you can't walk home; that's too scary. So you can just hop on this extra seat part, and I'll just drop you off at home." Korra patted the metal extension of her seat.

Asami eyed the steel warily, still not entirely convinced, but left without any other choice. She slung her bag over her shoulder and hopped up behind Korra, sitting side saddle. A hand gripped each of Korra's shoulders, and once the shorter girl determined they were ready, she started pedaling.

It turned out to be much harder than Korra anticipated. For one, the added weight was difficult to balance, so when Korra swerved accidentally, Asami's hands went from on Korra's shoulders to around her midsection, gripping tightly. Which led to the second hardest part. You can't ride a bike when your heart is beating wildly and your hands are clammy and your head is dizzy and _you can't breathe_.

But somehow Korra did it, and within a couple of minutes, Asami had dozed off, head tucked on Korra's shoulder, body pressed to her back, arms around her stomach. A soft smile graced Korra's lips, her heartbeat coming back under control. Asami was warm and soft, and having her wrapped around her was all Korra really wanted right now.

Korra rode silently, her mind cycling through through her life since she met Asami. How she no longer dreaded going to morning practices. How she found herself smiling at mangoes in the supermarket. How Cactus Juice brought back fond memories of late night gab sessions. How red towels always make her blush. How green is her new favorite color. And how her breath always hitches when she sees a certain raven-haired teammate.

She pinpointed the emotion surging through her body: happiness.

No, Korra might not have a crush on Asami anymore, but she might be in _love_ with her.

_Shit._

Her hand hovered over the ones around her midsection, deciding whether or not she should hold them. In the end, her hand went back to the handlebar.

Tonight. I'll tell her tonight, Korra decided. She was in too deep, and still not deep enough.

She peddled slower, not wanting to jostle the other girl from where she had placed her chin on Korra's shoulder, and also wanting to prolong the moment for as long as possible.

When her squeaky bicycle rolled up the front of Asami's little townhouse dorm, Korra hesitated. Asami was sleeping, head tucked on Korra's shoulder, arms around her waist. She didn't really want to wake the other girl, didn't want to lose the warmth, didn't want to lose the glowing feeling in her chest. But she also didn't want to be a creeper, so she woke Asami, as gently as she could.

"Asami?" Korra whispered, her hand finally having enough courage to place itself on Asami's.

"Mmm?" the other girl mumbled again her shoulder, still not stirring.

"Asami," Korra said a little louder and more forcefully this time. "You're home." Slowly, she felt the weight lift off her shoulder and arms loosen from around her. Asami climbed down off the bike languidly, hand gripping Korra's arm for balance.

"Thanks for the ride, Korra," she yawned sleepily, and she moved to walk up the short stairs to her room.

"Asami wait, can I talk to you?" Korra said quietly. "I need to tell you something." Her hands gripped the handlebars tighter. Blood pumped in her ears, heart pounding in her chest. The weight of what she was about to say was crashing down on her. She took in a deep breath, steadying herself.

"Of course Korra," Asami said with concern. "What's wrong?"

_Now or never._

"Asami, I-"

"Asami?" a voice came from the house.

Both girls wheeled around at the sudden intrusion. It was past midnight. No one in their right mind would be outside a house right now. Korra threw her bike down, stepping in front to protect Asami.

"Whoa, whoa, it's just me," a _REALLY_ handsome man said as he emerged from the shadows. He looked a little ruffled, like he'd been waiting on those steps for a few hours, at least. Dressed in dark blue jeans, a V neck shirt and a blazer, he still looked good despite his disheveled appearance. Hipster good anyway. Korra got a better look at him, and wow, congrats on your face.

This guy was really, really, ridiculously good looking. Light amber eyes, distinct eyebrows, angled cheekbones and a perfect jaw. He was handsome, in that 007, James Bond, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne kind of way. You know, if you were into that. Which Korra really hoped Asami wasn't.

"Iroh?" Asami said, a little tentatively. "Iroh!" she exclaimed once it was confirmed it was indeed, this man named Iroh. Asami threw herself into his arms, hugging him in a way that Korra had quite literally dreamed about.

Please be a brother. Or a cousin. Or a gay best friend. I'll take any of those, she silently pleaded to the spirits. But when she saw their lips meet, Korra knew the words Asami would say. Still, knowing the future didn't make it sting any less. It didn't make the pieces of Korra's heart any more whole.

It didn't stop her heart from breaking.

"Korra, this is my boyfriend, Iroh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there's light at the end of the tunnel.
> 
> Also, I think band geeks are awesome. But Korra's a jock, so she might not. She will though, by the end of this story, if you get my drift.
> 
> I really enjoy reading every comment; each one literally brings a smile to my face, good or bad. So thanks for that. :)


	4. My Ship is Sinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra became a master at compartmentalizing. Basketball in one place, personal life in the others. But like the Titanic, just because you close off the compartments, doesn’t mean your ship won’t still sink.

_Asami has a boyfriend._

Korra swallowed thickly, trying not to choke on her next words. “Hi, I’m Korra, nice to meet you.” She morphed her face into a smile, or at least that’s what she hoped what it was, because she sure felt like she wanted to puke.

“Iroh.” He smiled, shaking her hand politely.

Korra hopped on her bike, desperate to leave. Asami turned to Iroh though, preventing Korra from interrupting with a goodbye.

“Why are you here? I thought you told me you wouldn’t have phone reception for eight weeks,” she asked just a little too happily for Korra’s taste.

“The survey took a lot less longer than anticipated,” he shrugged. “Got back to civilization a lot sooner than I thought.” He beamed and Korra was sure a rainbow of butterflies flew behind him, illuminating his hella hunky face.

“You couldn’t call me first?”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Sadness and jealousy swept through Korra. Of all the things she didn’t know about Asami, she realized she didn’t even have her phone number. As close as they had been the past few weeks, it had never occurred to Korra to obtain the ten digits needed to be in contact with her at anytime. It stung more than the fact that Asami had never mentioned that she had a boyfriend.

When reduced to her very human instincts, Korra was a fight kind of girl. Fight or flight, and time and time again, Korra would be willing to stand and battle for whatever was in contention. But this, this, her body frantically screamed flight. It wanted to flee so badly, it took all of Korra’s will to stay still.

“G-guys, I’m gonna go,” she stuttered out. The power couple turned to her, Asami taking a step toward her.

“It’s late, are you sure you don’t--”

“No.”

It came out a lot harsher than Korra had intended.

“I mean, it’s just, you know, you guys,” she mumbled. Come on Korra, hold it together. “We have practice tomorrow, and I have to shower, and he just came back, and I’m sure you have activities to do, so I’m just gonna go home.” The rambling was the only stopgap between Korra and breaking down.

If Asami had noticed any of Korra’s discomfort, she didn’t show it. “Okay,” she said gently. “See you tomorrow.”

The ride home was a blur, literally. Because as soon as she was out of eyesight of the happy couple, Korra stopped holding back her tears. She zombied her way into the house, tossing her clothes off, not even realizing that she’d turned on the shower. The hot water scorched her skin, but it was nothing like the burn she’d just experienced. All she wanted was to tear her heart out of her body and throw it down, never having to feel it beat again. Stumbling out of the shower, she pulled on some clothes and collapsed onto the bed.

The deep pit in her chest was the same feeling she had when she watched Pearl Harbor and Rafe died, and then when Danny died, and then she was even angrier with herself for even comparing her life with it because it was a really shitty movie. At least compare your life to something good, like Shakespeare in Love or something. She punched her pillow into submissive softness, sighing face first into it.

Sleep would not come easy for Korra that night.

* * *

Korra had one of the most restless sleeps of her life. But getting up was worse. The usual pep and elation was gone, instead, it felt like a heavy weight had settled on her body overnight. She rolled over, falling to her knees onto the carpeted floor.

 _Breathe Korra, breathe_. The urge to cry engulfed her as last night’s events flooded her vision. _Goddamnit pull it together!_ She pressed the heel of her hand into her head, forcing breaths through her chest. Slowly, she rose, and got ready for practice.

Unlike every other day, Korra barely got to practice on time, just one minute before they started their warm up jog. She pulled on her shooter sleeves and tied her shoes, lagging to the back of the pack, away from where Asami was. From behind, that long black hair swayed with each stride, and Korra bit her lip, grimacing.

Why would this be hard? Essentially nothing had changed. Korra was still Asami’s teammate, and Asami was still Korra’s. But the change was in Korra, and as much as she wanted it to, the tight band constricting her chest wouldn’t go away.

Warm ups came and went, and Korra pointedly avoided eye contact with a certain green-eyed beauty. _No, not Kuvira, you weirdo._

Korra accidentally ignored Asami for the first twenty minutes of practice (okay, so it wasn’t accidental), and Korra knew she couldn’t keep up the aloof despondency much longer. Sure enough, Asami was casting furtive glances her way, all with with the underlying message of concern. Korra muttered under her breath, upset that Asami knew her far too well.

They broke off into two lines, as lay up drills began. Korra watched the line, making sure that she wasn’t paired with Asami as usual. When it was the taller girl’s turn, she looked surprised as Zhu Li passed her the ball. Asami caught it, dribbling and easing the ball off the backboard and through hoop. Zhu Li grabbed the ball, passing to the next person in line, who happened to be Korra. But Korra had been too preoccupied in her grief and mopeyness and the Brian McKnight song echoing in her head to pay attention.

. _..my shattered dreams and broken heart are mending on a shelf…_

“Korra!” Zhu Li shouted. But it was too late. She turned just in time to catch the ball with the side of her face.

“FUCK!” Korra yowled, clutching her face and falling to the floor. Immediately, everyone congregated around her, all asking if she was okay.

The fuck she was okay, she just got hit in the fucking head with a bouncy ass ball! What the hell was it with people asking the most asinine question when you are most obviously not okay?! Get your hand chopped off, are you okay? Get your dog run over, are you okay?

“Korra, are you okay?” Asami asked, hand on her arm.

_Get your heart broken, are you okay?_

“I’m fine,” she snapped, wrenching her arm out of Asami’s grasp. The other girl looked crestfallen and upset and Korra immediately felt like she had just told a child that Santa Claus was, in fact, not real. Those green puppy dog eyes would be the death of her.

A large dose of guilt washed over Korra. This wasn’t Asami’s fault. She had every right to have a boyfriend and not tell Korra. She had every right to still expect Korra to be her teammate. She had every right to think that Korra was still her friend.

 _Friend_.

You never realize how much the word stings until your desire to be something more arises.

“I’m sorry,” Korra said, trying to apologize for everything in two simple words. Her cobalt eyes met emerald ones, and Korra hoped it was understanding that clicked behind them. Asami nodded her head.

“It’s okay,” she said, grabbing Korra’s arm and helping her to her feet. “It was a late night.”

“What were youuuu up to last night?” Ginger cooed, and an instant need to punch the redhead in the face twitched in Korra’s fist. Her eyes flitted over to Asami, who actually looked flustered for once.

“I--nothing,” Asami stuttered, and Asami never stutters. “We just slept.”

_Oh. Right. Iroh Man was visiting._

Korra sighed, walking out of the group towards the bleachers.

“Let me know when you’re done pulling your head out of your ass and you can go back in,” Coach Lin said as Korra took a seat. Coach Su rolled her eyes.

“Korra, honey, let me see your face.” She clicked her tongue disapprovingly, a mother hen who did not like her little chickey having a bruise.

“I’m fine, Coach, I just need a couple of minutes,” Korra said, patting Coach Suyin reassuringly. She nodded, graying hair swaying.

“Okay sweetie.”

Head throbbing, Korra considered her options. She _could_ mope and be really forlorn. But that wasn’t her style. Sure, she cried at really sad movies, but it wasn’t like she mooned for days that Dumbledore died. Or she could be really angry and just call Asami out on everything. That was more her M.O.; the fight response taking the lead. But that would probably break their friendship irreparably if she did it Korrastyle. Even if she wasn’t going to be anything more, Asami was still a really great friend. Which brought about the third option. Grin and bear it. Roll with the _SS Irohsam_ i, and just continue to be _BFF4Lyf_ with Asami.

It was probably the hardest road to take, but she’d take the final one. Korra would be friends with Asami, and not jealous or sulky at all that she had a boyfriend. She kind of wished this was a reality show so someone could at least catch this soon-to-be train wreck on film.

“I’m ready Coach.”

* * *

“Hey Korra,” Asami said as she walked back into the locker room, wiping her tousled wet hair with a towel. Korra half expected a director to yell “Cut” or something for a hair commercial.

“Hey.” Korra threw her dirty clothes in her duffle, giving her something else to do other than look at Asami.

“So Iroh wanted to treat us to lunch, can you come? He really wants to meet you.”

That’s ironic, Korra scowled, because she really didn’t want to meet him at all. Her frown must’ve been evident on her face, and Asami immediately softened her offer.

“But I’m sure you must already have plans, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”

“Sure, it sounds great, Asami.”

Korra would collect the Purple Heart for her self-inflicted wound later.

* * *

Korra’s first impression and (slight) jealousy meant she might’ve been a little snippy with her comments, despite trying to be on her best behavior.

“So did you meet at Derek Zoolander’s School for Kids Who Can’t Read Good and Want to Do Other Stuff Good too?” she deadpanned, looking Iroh straight in his ridiculously gorgeous eyes.

“What?” The pasta on his fork slipped off, splashing back into the marinara sauce.

“You know, where really, really, ridiculously good-looking people get educated.” Korra arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms, daring him to answer. He considered her for a moment before answering.

“Well I used to go there. Then I wondered, ‘Is there more to life than being really, really, ridiculously good looking?’” he grinned. “Yes, was my answer, so I went back for my PhD in Geothermal Energy, which is where I met Asami.” Iroh whispered behind his hand, “She transferred out of Derek’s school as well.” Korra burst out in laughter.

She had really wanted to dislike Iroh. That’s how it’s supposed to go. Girl like guy (or girl in this case). Girl that is liked brings boyfriend, first girl gets jealous and hates guy on principal. But she actually liked Iroh.

He was funny and open and worked for the federal government, trying to bring about positive climate change. “He travels to remote islands, measuring the output of magma by volcanoes, determining if it’s a viable source of alternative energy,” Asami had explained earlier. “They tend to work in places without reception, so we usually have crappy Skype sessions in terrible motel rooms.”

And he was super handsome. Korra sighed, looking between Asami and Iroh. They were perfect for each other. The tight band that constricted her chest was back.

* * *

“Thanks for lunch, Iroh,” Korra thanked him as she stepped out of his rental.

“It was my honor, Korra,” he said, raising a hand in parting.

Asami waved as well. “Bye!”

“See you tomorrow!” Korra called after the car, giving a smile that was hiding her desire to just cry right then and there.

“Aw fuck,” Korra muttered, turning around and walking up to her dorm. She shut the door to her room, laying on the floor. She reached for her headphones, muffling her ears and shutting out the world. Scrolling through her playlists, she found the one titled, “[</3](https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CB8QFjAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Fuser%2Fspotify%2Fplaylist%2F2EOu5dfAMmdbHcGYYNQIc0&ei=uZYYVYuoM4z1oATki4K4Cg&usg=AFQjCNE28tWDihmloyR9df7UBYLRhxJNHg&sig2=ZCBPwMzPDFfvzeomqZlZew&bvm=bv.89381419,d.cGU)” and hit shuffle. A sigh escaped her and her hands fell to her sides, the music player tumbling out of her hand.

Just because she could hold it together in public didn’t mean she couldn’t fall apart in private.

Various songs about heartbreak and other shit played and Korra couldn’t help it; the words hit too close to home and they began tumbling out of her mouth.

_**“I KEEEP BLEEDIN’, KEEEEEEP, KEEEEEP, BLEEDIN’ LOVE! YOU CUT ME OPEN AND---”** _

“Korra, what the shit is this?!”

Korra whipped off her headphones and opened her eyes. Looking down at her was a very irritated and confused Opal. Korra sat up quickly.

“Opal, what are you doing here?!”

Opal rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You forgot?” She crossed her arms. “It’s family visit weekend, and your dad is stuck at that City Council meeting, so he asked me if I could make it. Remember?”

Ohhhhhh. Right. Korra had forgotten all about Family Weekend. The one weekend where family members or friends could visit the team members. Which explains why Iroh was there.

“Where’s Bolin?” Korra asked. Bolin, one of Korra’s childhood best friends, was dating Opal. Korra had drunkenly introduced them at a kegger and fifteen minutes later she found them making out in the coat closet. Been inseparable ever since. Which meant that Opal became an indirect member of their circle, and Korra considered her one of her closest friends, not to mention her roommate back at ATU.

“Early football practice." Opal waved a hand impatiently. "But he’s been worried about you. Korra what’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bolin told me, said your texts went from normal to really happy to outrageously sad.” She read some aloud.

_Korra: The hot girl from RCU is here. FML._

_Korra: Catfish Asami exists! Hahaha tell Mako_

_Korra: Fuck Zoolander. I’ll take his Blue Steel and shove it up his ass._

_Korra: Whyyyyyy does Mufasa have to die? Shit's fucked up. Poor Simba. :'(_

Opal fixed her with a look. “Korra, we've gone over this Lion King thing so many times. Mufasa dies. We can't change that. What is going on?”

Korra looked away. She was a little embarrassed. Opal knew she was bisexual, but the whole crush on Asami was so high school.

“It’s a girl,” Korra said, pulling at her fingers. “I kinda really like her. Like in that can’t eat, can’t sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, World Series kind of stuff.”

“Oh, you got it bad,” she shook her head and sitting cross-legged across of Korra.

“I know, I’ve been listening to Usher’s U Got It Bad all day.”

“Let me guess, she has a boyfriend or girlfriend?”

Korra nodded. “Boyfriend.”

“So what are you gonna do?”

Korra sighed, shoulders deflating. “Nothing,” she said honestly. “I’d rather have her as a friend than nothing at all.” Opal’’s eyes narrowed, clearly not believing a word Korra said.

“Really,” Korra said, “I--I’d just rather see her happy, you know? And she’s a great teammate, we just click on court, and she’s super nice and really fun to talk to and---”

Opal gave Korra a mournful smile, and a patronizing look flitted across her features for just a moment.

“Come on, let’s go get some pizza.”

* * *

Having Opal back was almost as great as hanging out with Asami. Korra wasn’t lonely, and she definitely wasn’t allowed to mope, cause Opal doesn’t allow shit like that. So they played Horse for a little while, then Korra gave Opal a tour of the complex, and she ooohed and aaaahed at the shiny new equipment. They watched Netflix for a bit, and Korra smiled ruefully as the cursor hovered over Orange Is the New Black, before Opal shot her a look that said, “You knock that shit off.” Despite Opal’s insistence that she talk to Asami, Korra always refused, claiming everything was fine.

By the time the weekend was over, Korra was almost back to her pre-pitiful state. She hugged Opal gratefully, glad someone could come and drag her out of her own muck.

After a good heart-to-heart with Opal, Korra decided that the best way to work her way through this was to pour herself into the team. So she did. She focused extra hard at practice, running plays with precision and efficiency. Korra stayed late to help some girls with drills, and she could tell they really appreciated it. When extra conditioning threatened to steal the will straight from their souls, Korra shouted “We can do it!” and led the charge. She didn’t let her own personal woes spill into basketball.

Korra had become a master at compartmentalizing. Basketball in one place, personal life in the others. But like the Titanic, just because you close off the compartments, doesn’t mean your ship won’t still sink.

After practice on Monday, Korra avoided Asami, and instead of heading to the locker room for a shower, she found herself in the weight room. She shoved the buds in her ears, loading up the first workout playlist she found on Spotify. The metal screeched a little as Korra slid a plate onto the metal bar. She settled on the bench under it, and did a few bench presses. The tangible weight in her hands gave her mind something else to think about other than the imagined one that lived inside her ribcage. She sighed as the barbell came back to rest on the rack.

This wasn’t going to work. Korra couldn’t keep this up. She couldn’t stay in this limbo of trying to be a friend but hoping to be more. After the initial dejection passed, Korra found anger bubbling up more and more. Why had she had she held back so many things from Korra? Korra had told her nearly everything about herself. Everything was so confusing.

Korra had spent weeks hoping that maybe, maybe, Asami might like her as more than friend. That maybe the way her green eyes lingered on Korra’s lips meant something else. Or how she Asami’s cheeks reddened when Korra pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. But she spend an equal amount of convincing herself that they were simply friends as well.

Korra grunted in frustration, taking the bar up again, pumping the weight furiously. Midway through the seventh rep, Korra could hear the faint tracings of Asami’s voice in the song she was listening to. Even in the solitude of music and weight room, Asami’s melodious voice still invaded her head. Korra racked the bar once more, blowing the air out of her chest. She was falling apart. She had been sad, and sometimes she was angry, but it was all still very basic.

Korra _missed_ Asami.

Korra had been keeping her distance from Asami, declining late practices or hanging out during the day, and it was wearing on Korra. She felt empty, and so lonely as she stared at play diagrams alone on her bed. She threw a hand over her face.

 _Korra_!

Again, she could hear Asami in her music. Except a hand tickled her ear as she felt the earphone being pulled out. Korra yelped in surprised, head promptly banging into the bar.

“Oh my god, are you alright? I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Ow,” Korra moaned a little, but the pain subsided quickly. She lay back on the bench and cracked an eye at her intruder. “What are you doing here?”

Asami sat on a bench nearby. “I just wanted to talk to you. I didn’t see you after practice, or last night either.”

Korra didn’t answer, instead choosing to stare at the ceiling. She could lie, say it wasn’t feeling well or something, that would be easy. But lying to Asami wasn’t something she wanted to start doing. So she remained silent.

“Are you mad at me?” Asami asked, voice a little softer and uncertain. “Did I do something wrong?”

Korra closed her eyes, body deflating as she let out the breath she’d been holding. “No--yes--kind of,” she mumbled, unsure of how to explain herself. “Why didn’t you tell me,” she asked, and when Asami crooked an eyebrow, she added, “that you had a boyfriend?”

“Oh,” Asami mouthed, though no sound came out. “It just didn’t come up, and I didn’t really think I had to tell you,” she said a little resentfully.

“But why not? I’ve told you practically everything about me, and you leave out a huge fact like you have a boyfriend?” Korra turned her head sideways to look at Asami. Her anger was coming up again, and she fought to press it back down.

“Is that what you’re mad about? That I didn’t mention that I have a boyfriend?! Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” she said heatedly.

“Yes---No--I mean,” Korra spluttered, “I realized I don’t know anything about you!” Korra looked back up at the ceiling, avoiding the piercing emerald eyes. “I mean, I know that you really like mangoes, or that you know more things about cars than guys, or that you really love Sharknado even thought you pretend to really hate it because of the logical inaccuracies. I know that you always drive really fast, and that you smell like amber and citrus, and that you get this little crease in your forehead when you concentrate.” Asami’s face had slid from an irritated look to one of incredulity.

“But I don’t know where you’re from, where you grew up, what high school you went to, what your parent’s names are! Christ, I don’t even have your phone number!”

A heavy silence settled over them, threatening to steal the air right out of their lungs. All Korra could hear was her heartbeat thumping in her ears, the only proof she was still alive. Now that her rant was over and the adrenaline gone, Korra’s body felt oddly weak. She chanced a look at Asami, who was staring at the ground, shoulders slumped. Asami got up slowly, walking over to Korra, and sat on the ground next to her. When she spoke, it was so soft Korra strained her ears to hear it.

“I never told you,” Asami sighed, “because that’s my past. I haven’t exactly had a great childhood. It’s nothing like the great times you had growing up with your family. So I’ve always tried to live in the present, looking toward the future.” Korra turned her head to look at Asami, feeling guilty for bringing up what were obviously bad memories.

“I trust you Korra, and maybe I should’ve at least trusted you enough to tell you, but it’s not exactly easy for me.” Asami bit her lip. Korra slid off the bench, sidling in next to Asami. Even if her answers were vague, it was a start.

“I trust you. Tell me when you’re ready.”

Asami smiled gratefully. “I will. But I am ready to do this.” She reached into Korra’s shorts, and her mind immediately went to the far corner of her brain that hid her sexual fantasies.

_What? What? Ready to do what?!_

But Asami withdrew her hand, pulling out Korra’s phone. She punched her number in, saving the contact. She handed the phone back to Korra.

“Okay, so are we officially friends now? Or do I need to add you on Facebook as well?” Asami smirked.

“Add me on Facebook as well. We all know that’s how you become ‘official friends.’”

“Nerd.”

“I’m not the one that was in band camp.”

* * *

They returned to their “normal” routine, but it was a little different. Maybe it was all in Korra’s head. Maybe it wasn’t. But Korra felt like Asami was holding something back from her. But Korra knew to give Asami enough space to work through it, letting her come to her when she was ready. Korra liked to think it was because Asami had feelings for her as well, but she stopped kidding herself before she got too far.

Maybe it was all in Korra’s imagination, she’d been the one to do the awkward thing first.

These thoughts ran through Korra’s head after practice as she sat next to Asami. Which meant she wasn’t listening at all to Coach Lin’s announcements.

Asami nudged her, inclining her chin to Coach Lin subtly. Korra forced herself to pay attention.

“As I said earlier, the quarter finals are this weekend, so we’re taking the bus to Ba Sing Se this coming Tuesday. We’ll have a few days to get accommodated. Coach Kya has your room assignments.”

Kya cleared her throat. “We’re going to mix up the rooms a little. You won’t be rooming with your housemate. Kuvira, with P’li. Korra, with Sato. Ming Hua--”

The rest of the names faded out. Korra had stopped listening. She was going to room with Asami for six days. All alone. Twenty-four hours a day. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.

She smiled at Asami, who smiled in return.

Korra couldn’t help but notice that it didn’t reach her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, Asami plays the tuba, because who else can make the tuba look like a sexy instrument in a marching band? And it explains why she couldn’t see Mako. 
> 
> Your comments and reviews are the best. I laughed at a bunch of them. And yes, there are Zoolander references. Because I can, Matilda.


	5. Can I Phone a Friend?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Korra uses her Mako lifeline but doesn't become a millionaire and then subsequently hangs off a cliff.
> 
> Asami was a mansion, and Korra could walk through all the rooms, see through all the windows, but there was one door that was still locked, and no matter what she did, it wouldn’t open.

Nothing changes. At least that's what Korra told herself where things concerned Asami. She tried her best to keep the status quo. Show up at practice early, walk home together, watch movies for a few hours, meet at the gym for late work. It probably looked fine from the outside of a fishbowl.

They still hadn't broached the _Origins of Asami_ , but Korra didn't push, and Asami didn't seem in a hurry to bring it up. They hadn't talked about the impending road trip either. It was looming on the horizon, just a few short days away, and it seemed Asami was just as uncomfortable with the arrangement as Korra. The only thing Korra was happy about was that Iroh never came up.

The really weird atmosphere that had shrouded them had mostly dissolved, and they were back to _Korra & Asami 1.0_, minus a few instances. Sometimes, it was just as it was before, and they fell into an easy banter. Other times, she'd catch Asami stock still, eyes unmoving and a little sad, but when Korra asked, she'd shake that beautiful head, black hair swaying, and Korra would drop it. Asami was a mansion, and Korra could walk through all the rooms, see through all the windows, but there was one door that was still locked, and no matter what she did, it wouldn't open. Korra thought they'd cleared the air, but maybe all they did was swirl around the smoke.

She was probably reading too much into it. That's what Korra would tell herself. Because she was in love ( _gag!_ ) with her teammate, and therefore was also obsessively aware of everything Asami did. You know, like reading into every word said, every movement made, every emotion conveyed. It was driving her mad.

For example:

Korra thinks: _Asami is staring at me, I'm sure of it._

Asami says: "Korra, can you grab the book off the shelf right behind you?"

Asami says: "I think I'm going to have chocolate pudding today."

Korra thinks: _Her whisper is the Lucifer._

Korra thinks: Oh wow, Asami is reaching for my hand. This is _THE MOMENT_.

Asami: *grabs remote and switches channel*

A person could go insane doing this. Analyzing and over analyzing and reanalyzing again. This was not something Korra did. She didn't like lingering. Repetition and dissection were Asami's fortes. Which brought Korra in a circular argument, because she was analyzing things about the analytical girl.

 _Arggggh_.

Korra turned the grocery cart a little too aggressively down the aisle, almost ramming the love of her life. Or would be love, if Korra somehow found a magic lamp. And the genie didn't have stupid stuff like quid pro quos.

Asami stood in the center of the row, leisurely reading the label on a box. She had on a pink oversized t shirt with RCU's logo, and it hung off a shoulder exposing her delicious collarbone. Her ripped denim shorts showed way too much leg, and somehow even her plain slippers looked amazing. Asami was one of those girls who could literally make anything look good. Her wavy hair hung loose around her shoulders, one knee bent. The most graceful flamingo of them all. Korra left the cart, moseying up behind the taller girl. _Commence Mission Seduce Asami_.

"Soooooo…..chocolate chip?" she tried in her smoothest voice.

"Oh Korra," Asami said, completely unfazed. "What do you think?" She was holding a box of pre made cookie mix in each hand. "Do you want chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin?"

_Mission failed. I repeat, mission has failed in a fiery fucking crash._

Korra at least managed an answer. "Well, since oatmeal cookies look like they have flies in them, I prefer chocolate chip."

Asami considered her for a moment before throwing the box in the cart.

"That's a good point." She looked over the items in the cart.

"Alright, do you think we have enough stuff for a good time tonight?"

Korra blinked. Asami had a habit of making statements with sexual undertones, intended or not, and it was throwing Korra's brain into constant overdrive. Her brain wheeled through various scenarios, most of them involving messy makeouts and a lack of clothes.

Though all her mouth could translate was, "Uh huh."

* * *

You'd think that two college students would be able to able to bake cookies sufficiently, but apparently this wasn't true. Korra stood, arms crossed, staring at the box on the counter. Likewise, Asami stood next to her, hand planted on a hip.

"So what happens now?" Korra asked.

"I don't know, I thought you had done this before."

"You're the one that wanted cookies!" Korra exclaimed.

"But you're the one that wanted to bake them! I wanted to just buy the ones from the bakery!"

"Okay, okay, sorry," Korra said, hands up in a pacifying manner. "I'm sure we can figure this out." Korra would never admit it to anyone breathing, but she adored arguing like an old married couple with Asami. You know, cause one day they might actually be-

Korra lunged and grabbed the box, turning it over, leaving her thoughts behind. Asami read the instructions from over her shoulder.

"We need some butter, an egg and a bowl," Asami said aloud, going down the list. Korra was scarcely paying attention to any words on the box, because Asami had just crossed the invisible six inch line that demarcated her Safe Zone from her _Oh My Fucking God Zone_. Perfume invaded in her head, and she could feel soft breaths tickling her ear. Asami took a step back to lock eyes with Korra, who immediately started drowning in the virescent sea of her eyes.

"Take me to church," Korra mumbled out, daydreaming a fair amount, and far too reverently.

"What?" Asami said, "Didn't quite catch that."

Korra wheeled. _OH FUCK_. When did her filter decide to take a vacation? She coughed harshly. "I said, 'We'll need lots of bowls." Asami's eyebrow twitched, and Korra had a sinking feeling she heard everything.

But Asami didn't push the subject, instead dumping the mix into a large bowl and microwaving the butter. "Okay," she said, cracking the egg and pouring the butter in the bowl, "you mix."

"Me?" Korra said bewildered. "With what?"

"A mixer? I don't know?" Asami said a little panicked. "I can do vehicles, math or basketball. Not housethings." Asami snatched one of Korra's wrists and thrust it into the bowl, causing a small mushroom cloud of powder to rise. Korra gaped at her.

"Really? Did you really just do that? I didn't even wash my hands!"

Asami cocked her head. "You're the one always telling me to be a little more spontaneous. Besides, we're going to bake them at 375 degrees. That's enough to kill the bacteria."

Korra blinked. "That's not what I meant. I meant watch a new movie, or try a new hairstyle or different outfit, not contaminate our food with cooties!"

Asami pouted a little, her lower lip jutting out. "I'm sure you only have really cute cooties."

"Whatever," Korra muttered, turning to the bowl, a faint blush creeping up her neck.

* * *

The cookies were finished after a few missteps, one of them when Korra set the oven on the wrong temperature and the cookies ended up the size of pancakes. Being the creative genius that she is, Asami had figured how to make various shapes with the dough, and when they sat down on the couch, the girls had an assortment of shapes to choose from.

"Ah fair maiden, take this star, to inspire you to reach for the heavens," Korra said with her best British accent. Asami giggled.

"Take this moon," she said, giving it to Korra, "to remind you that nothing is impossible." They giggled together, and Korra felt her face slide into her familiar lopsided grin. Asami reached into the bowl again.

"Here, take my heart."

Korra accepted the cookie, and though she probably seemed okay on the outside, the beating in her chest had quadrupled and her breath suddenly lodged in her throat. Asami was beautifully oblivious to the fact that she was killing Korra everyday. The only emotion painting Asami's porcelain white face was playfulness. She was giggling, and it was clear it was a joke.

 _I'm a joke_ , Korra thought horribly.

As the dagger sat in her chest, Korra reached into bowl, anxious to diffuse the one-sided tension.

"Here, take this square, because you're two of a kind."

"Nerd!" Asami said, shoving Korra's shoulder. Korra couldn't disagree. She really was. Just this basketball-playing nerd who'd somehow fallen in love with her teammate/friend/soulmate.

* * *

After the third episode of the Walking Dead, that familiar sleepy Asami was beginning to appear. She turned to Korra.

"Can I?" Asami asked. Korra nodded, knowing what Asami was asking. But the strange thing was, was that Asami had never asked before. What had changed to make Asami think she needed Korra's permission?

Asami tucked her head in that familiar place on Korra's shoulder, body pressed against her side. Asami tucked her legs on the couch, knees falling against Korra's, her hand falling on her thigh. Korra eyed the hand, and because it was something that seemed so natural, so easy, so right, she intertwined her fingers with Asami's.

The older girl stiffened for a moment, and Korra immediately regretted her decision. But Asami relaxed into Korra, and let out a sigh. Korra's heart beat wildly, then slowed to a crawl.

Even if this was all there was, it would have to be enough. She pressed her cheek against Asami's hair, inhaling slowly. Korra closed her eyes, willing the tears back to where they originated from. This was all there would be.

Fuck the Spirits man. If you'd asked her two weeks ago if she wanted to room with Asami, Korra would've screamed _FUCK YES_ from the mountaintops. Now, getting caught in a room all alone with her was terrifying.

Korra waited until Asami's soft, even breaths tickled her neck, then slipped out from under, careful to lean her gently onto a pillow. Korra pulled on her shoes and closed the door, the latch sliding shut quietly with a click.

This was impossible. Korra was entering uncharted waters, and she could barely stay afloat as it was. Her emotions were constantly up and down, just a piece of driftwood riding the raging ocean and it made her absolutely seasick. She wasn't Asami's girlfriend, but she was more than a girl friend. You know, to hang out with and stuff, not like Naga. Or at least she thought so. Something would have to give sooner or later. Korra was determined not to let it be her.

Her sneakers slapped the sidewalk, hands shoved into the pockets of her hoodie. Korra was lost, and it was worse than that one time she decided to try and play Zork, because really, how hard could a text game be, but she got stuck at a gate trying to "Go North" for an hour. She needed to talk to someone, anyone. She unlocked her phone, scrolling for the familiar name.

 _Catfish Mako_ , her phone phone highlighted, and she pressed the call button. Korra needed her ' _phone a friend_ ' lifeline desperately. She needed the reassurances of her most pragmatic friend.

"Hullo?" the voice that answered was a little groggy, but it was deep and sharp and it was immediately soothing.

"Hey Mako, it's me."

"Korra? Wait, what time is it?" She heard some shuffling in the background and felt slightly guilty for calling at such a late hour. But only a smidge guilty, it was Mako after all. "It's 12:30."

"Yeah," Korra started to say.

"Are you alright?"

Tiny pinpricks of weakness threatened at the corner of her eyes, and Korra felt like such a chump for feeling relieved that Mako wasn't upset that she called, just concerned. It reminded her why she kept him as a friend even though he was such a tightass.

"Actually no," and she could hear him shift on his bed to sit up. "Do you have time to talk? I know it's kind of late." She felt stupid for calling, and now it seemed even more ridiculous because of the late hour. "You know what, it's okay, I'll just call lat-"

"Korra. What's wrong?" Fuckin' Mako and his maturity. She shoved her hand back in a pocket.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I kind of just needed someone to talk to."

"Is this about Asami?"

Korra was really thankful that Mako couldn't see the redness of her face or the way her mouth just imitated a fish. "I'm guessing you've talked to Bolin and Opal."

"Once or twice," he said, though Korra had a feeling it was a hell of a lot more times, especially knowing Bolin.

"So long story short, I really like this girl, and we hang out and I think we're super close, but she's got a boyfriend, and things are kind of weird, but I think they're better."

"That's not that short."

"That's what you have to say?"

"Okay no, but Opal said you were gonna just move on."

The yellow of the street lights illuminated the blackness of asphalt, muting the colors of her surroundings and reflecting light everywhere. Korra realized everything was not simply black and white anymore.

"I was trying to, Mako. But, I don't know, I can't. Sometimes, I think she feels the same, but I'm pretty sure I'm just kidding myself. I want her, but I don't want to fuck it all up."

"You should tell her." His voice wasn't commanding, but it wasn't soft either.

"But her boyfriend-"

"Fuck him. Tell her." His voice got sharper, a little more edge.

"Why? I don't even know if she's into girls." This seemed like a horrible idea. "I'm not a homewrecker."

"Maybe not, but you're incredible, and this guy doesn't stand a chance against you."

"You haven't seen this guy. I think even you might bend over for him."

"Fuckin' A, I try to help you out, and this is what happens."

"Okay, okay, sorry, but really, why should I tell her? It just sounds like it'll crash harder than that Airbender movie they made."

"I already know you. You don't do anything halfway. Either you'll be everything or nothing to her, so you might as well take a shot. You're only calling me cause you're stuck in between and you don't know what to do."

"I hate how well you know me, you know that? But more importantly, I really don't dont think this is a great idea."

"Trust me. Tell her."

"Why?"

Mako's voice was gentle and tender and Korra almost forgot who she was talking to. "Because you'll regret it everyday. I do."

Korra wanted to press Mako about who he was talking about, but she had another thought pulling into her station and boarded that train instead. "You know this is the same Asami you dated right?"

"I know, so you can stop calling me Catfish now."

"What was she like?" There was a pregnant pause, and Korra could feel the gears in his head grind as he pulled up the old memories.

"Asami was great, beautiful, really kind. But I always felt like I couldn't get through to her."

"What do you mean?"

"She never talks about herself."

Korra paused. She fast forwarded through her clips of Asami, and realized Mako was right. Asami didn't bring up anything about herself unless prompted (and sometimes prodded).

"I don't know what it is, but she's always hiding something," he said.

"I'll tell her when I'm ready." Mako didn't say anything, but Korra knew he was nodding, agreeing with her answer and letting her come to her own terms. Their friendship was pretty remarkable; they could say two different things, jumping all over the place, but it never had to be explained. Mako was understanding and a know-it-all like that.

"Don't you have early practice tomorrow?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah, I'm heading back to my dorm."

"Where are you now?"

"Walking through the endless night, listening to the rhyming of the rain."

There was no response. Korra thought maybe Mako fell asleep.

"You've been listening to Sam Smith non-stop haven't you?" His voice was flat.

"I-no," she stuttered. "How would you even know that?"

"You can't just listen to 'Leave Your Lover' over and over and expect it to happen!" Korra could practically see Mako pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not! His words are just really poignant and moving, okay?"

"I know you're full of shit when you start using words like 'poignant."

"What the hell, I thought we were bros?!"

"Stop calling me 'Bro."

"But you call Bolin 'Bro!'"

"That's cause he's my Bro, like _Bro Bro_."

"But you said you'd follow me into battle 'cause we're Bros! Like a _BroTP_!"

"That's not even a real word! I was talking about Call of Duty and you know that! It's too late for this shit, good night."

"Okay, bye Bro!"

"Goddamnit."

Mako hung up on her, and if it were anyone else, she might've felt hurt, but Korra was grinning like a fool. Teasing Mako had such an uplifting effect. He'd never take anything too much to heart, but he always seemed to get ruffled by the smallest things.

A big breath pushed out of her lungs. She already felt lighter. Just talking to someone who understood and supported eased the tightness in her chest. Things would be okay.

* * *

Their hotel was the Fook Yuen Hotel, and the kindergartener in Korra giggled like a madman when she read the name aloud, because she'd really like Asami to do that to her. The team arrived late Tuesday afternoon, and the coaches had a moment of weakness, giving the team a free night.

"Hey!" Korra called to Asami as the hotel door closed. She hopped onto the bed next to Asami, who was laying on her stomach, going over a play diagram. Korra flopped on her back, making herself comfortable on the pillow. Talking to Mako had calmed Korra down a bit, but his idea of telling Asami was too much at the moment (Sometimes he would get some really bonehead ideas, and though Korra hated to admit it, they were sometimes right all along. She really hoped this wasn't one of those times.) So she just stored it away for another day. Like if she were on her deathbed, or if the zombie apocalypse suddenly rose.

"Some of the girls are going to some Thai food place called the Jasmine Dragon, you wanna go?"

Asami's brow furrowed slightly, a pen in between her lips. She was concentrating on the board in front of her, and Korra could stare unabashedly. Asami acquired severe tunnel vision whenever she got into diagrams, anything complicated really. Which for Korra was anything above Algebra II.

Asami's face was smooth angles and sharp curves everywhere. Korra followed the crease in her brow down the slope of her nose to the slight point, down to her bare lips. High hollowed cheekbones framed her emerald eyes. Korra tried counting each long lash on her oval eyes, mesmerized by the how the edges would draw up to a point whenever she smiled. Asami inclined her head toward her intruder, and Korra froze.

_Caught motherfucker._

But Asami ignored her and flopped onto her back as well, black hair tickling Korra's nose. She nuzzled into Korra's shoulder, holding the dry erase board over the both of them. "Look at this, what do you think? It's a perfect play for Eska."

Korra rolled her eyes. Asami hadn't heard a word she said. "Sure it's great, but do you want to go to dinner tonight?"

The small crease reappeared between Asami's eyebrows. She scribbled on the board.

"Asami?" Korra tried again. She realized Asami had heard her the first time, but was choosing to ignore her.

"I think I'm going to pass."

That was disconcerting. Asami hadn't eaten all day. Once they had passed the outer walls, she'd stopped talking really. Just sort of looking out the windows, like she was posing for a melancholy photoshoot unintentionally. It's what happens when you're ridiculously photogenic. You accidentally model everywhere.

"Oh no you don't, you haven't eaten at all, and I've eaten, like, five times."

"I don't want to go; nobody's going to miss lil ol' me," she pouted, and if you've never been privy to an Asami pout, you've never lived. She'll stick her lower lip out, frowning just a tad, and she'll pull those green eyes into the most pathetic look. She'll also make a whiny sound, and the only goal you'll have in life is to acquiesce to whatever conditions she set forth. It's breathtaking and adorable. Korra set her jaw with a hardened look.

"Oh no you don't missy," she said through clenched teeth, stilling every bone in her body that wanted to squeal and fangirl. "You can't honeypot me. We're going out even if I have to carry you."

Asami snorted. "Couldn't you just bring me take out?"

"No, you need to get out, we're going to dinner!"

"Fine."

* * *

The weather was great, and Ba Sing Se was beautiful at night. It was all colored street lights and loud people and decrepit sidewalks. Korra loved it. They meandered through the streets, Asami leading the way. About a block from their destination though, Asami grabbed Korra's wrist.

"Korra, I really don't want to go." It sounded like she was pleading, and a little bolt of terror shot through Korra, though she wasn't sure why. She turned to Asami.

"Are you okay?" When Asami didn't answer, Korra searched Asami's face. Her lips pursed, like what she was going to say took all of the strength she had.

"I was born in Ba Sing Se," she said finally, and though it wasn't an answer to her question, Korra didn't point it out. Silence passed between them, the pieces coming together for Asami, however slowly. Patience would lead to answers.

"I was raised here until I was seven. We lived not too far from here actually." It was unclear where Asami was steering the conversation, but she was finally opening up, and Korra would not be the one to stop her. The quiet stretched for long intervals, but Korra didn't push any further.

"My mother died when I was seven." Asami shifted so she was looking at Korra. "I never told you that, did I?" Korra shook her head, and Asami continued. Her voice had changed from its usual silkiness, taking on a rasp, just barely keeping her voice from cracking.

"You remember those Airbender action figures they used to make? I really wanted the Katara one, and I begged and begged until my mom agreed to drive across the city to the only toy store that had her figurine. My father thought I was being absolutely ridiculous, and I remember him laughing quite a bit at how insistent I was at having this toy.

"It wasn't that late, and the last thing I remember was singing with my mom, but then I woke up and I had a broken leg and mom was gone." Korra gasped, words failing her completely.

"A drunk driver heading home from Happy Hour sideswiped us. Took my mom from my dad and me in an instant." Asami's voice was thick and shaky, but Korra had no words that could make any of it better, because really, what will bring your mom back? But she could offer herself, something tangible and heavy and warm that Asami could hold onto. She slipped her hand into Asami's, warming the cold digits with her own.

Asami relaxed into her, squeezing the hand tightly. "My dad handled it bad. Terribly, really. I had no idea. We moved to Republic City because he couldn't walk the streets without breaking down. I was seven and it was easy to hide things from a child. He became overly protective and very doting. He never said it aloud, but I think he resented that I lived and she didn't. I found out years later that he was a raging alcoholic."

Asami turned, giving Korra an undecipherable look. "Funny how that happens, huh?" She laughed bitterly, and for once, Asami's face morphed into something unrecognizable, a resentful woman where a loving girl should be. 

"When I was eighteen, he hit a car full of kids going home from prom. None of them made it. His blood alcohol level was 0.25."

Asami's face was stony, her expression a mask of loathing and rage. "He became exactly what he hated." She gave that bitter laugh again, and Korra never wanted to hear it again. She pulled Asami into a hug, and despite the height difference, Korra still pulled Asami's head down to rest.

"He's going to be in prison for the rest of his miserable life," she said, muffled against Korra's jacket. "I hate him." Korra felt warm tears against her neck, and she pulled Asami tighter. "You've probably heard of him. Hiroshi Sato, inventor of the famed _Satomobile_ , arrested for manslaughter." Her voice had an acrid tone, like she resented the notoriety of her father.

Vague memories of a news story came to mind; Korra remembered her father shaking his head while reading the article, muttering something about disappointment. There was something about his daughter too, but Korra would've never guessed that this Asami was the same Asami Sato of the Satomobile corporation. What a lonely life to live. Korra ran her fingers through Asami's hair, fingernails gently raking her scalp.

"You are not your father. You are kind and brave and beautiful."

"I miss them so much," Asami said, still muffled, and though her voice didn't break, her body shook as it took in ragged breaths. Korra stroked her back gently, muttering calming nonsense until her fingers began to get numb from the cold.

"I fucking hate this city," Asami finally said. Korra pulled back, a hand taking Asami's again. She gave her the best smile she could manage.

"Okay, screw dinner, I'm going to tell them we're not coming," Korra said as she took out her phone. She punched a quick text to Zhu Li. Asami stood to the side, sniffling slightly. Korra stowed her phone and turned to Asami.

"You and I are going to get the best fucking food and have the best fucking time in this huge fucking city," she said seriously. Despite herself, Asami let a small smile pull at her mouth. Korra pulled Asami by the hand toward the nearby food truck full of meat.

* * *

Korra tried her damned best to get Asami out of her funk, and she think she succeeded. Just because there were bad memories floating around, it didn't mean that she couldn't create new ones full of happiness. By the time they got back to their room, Asami was laughing, her belly full of various meats and sweets.

Korra's heart swelled when Asami hummed as she went to shower. It'd never be a chore to cheer Asami up. Never. After she too had a nice long shower, Korra pulled down the covers, making her bed more comfortable.

"Korra?"

"Hmm?" she turned around. Asami had settled into bed, but she still looked uncomfortable.

"This might sound weird, but would you...stay with me tonight? It's just, I think I'd feel better if someone were next to me."

Korra nodded and slid in next to her (as if she was going to say no). Asami tucked into Korra's neck and the younger girl didn't even flinch. She was so used to Asami's breath against her that it felt empty when it wasn't there. Korra grasped Asami's hand in reassurance.

Asami let go of Korra's hand for an instant, only to realign their fingers so she could intertwine them. "Thank you, Korra. For just being you."

Korra couldn't help it, she snorted and pulled away from Asami. "That's soooo cheesy," she said, giving her a bemused look. Asami turned to look up at Korra.

"Oh shut up. You know you love it." Asami's green eyes were full of light once more, and Korra thought it was _A Moment_. She didn't move, instead holding Asami's steady gaze for far too long. It's like when you give a hug that's way longer than it's supposed to be and you're not sure how to end it. Seconds, eons, something passed and they didn't move. So Korra did.

She leaned in, eyes shut, pressing her closed, chapped lips against Asami's soft, dewy ones. Asami didn't move for one, two seconds, but after three, Korra could feel her gently pushing back. Korra moved away from the chaste kiss, eyes slowly opening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how 'bout that cliff, huh?
> 
> Judging from the comments, a lot of you have unresolved issues about the Lion King.
> 
> Have you ever played Zork? Most frustrating thing ever.
> 
> Some of you might be like, "How can Korra not know who she is?! She's fucking ASAMI SATO!" Sato is pretty much the most common family name in Japan (I think that's an actual fact, feel free to correct me), and Hiroshi and Asami are probably top 20 of given names. I've known a handful of Satos and a handful of Asami's (none of them Asami Satos). The English equivalent is probably like George and Amanda Smith. So it really isn't too strange for Korra to not know. 
> 
> Also there's an actual restaurant called Fook Yuen and I blatantly used it.


	6. Gotta Get'cha Head in the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We pause from our normal programming to give you this commercial break. Our regular angst will resume shortly.
> 
> The chapter during which Korra finds out she has the same transparency as saran wrap. AKA Korra is so afraid of getting shut down she beats Asami to the reject.

Korra had never been more afraid to open her eyes.

 _Shit_.

She’d just kissed Asami Sato. And not like _Oh hello my little grandchild I will kiss you sloppily while I pinch your cheek_ or _You’re so sweet, thanks so much for carrying my groceries_. No no, she’d just kissed her fully on the lips because...because...because, goddamnit, she’s Korra and she makes impulsive decisions when beautiful girls are in bed with her. Fuck.

But Asami had kissed her back right? Kind of? At least a little, maybe?

Well it’s too fucking late now, because it was time to face the music. Korra opened her eyes slowly, working upwards from Asami’s neck. Her gaze moved from her chin, up to parted lips, up her nose to meet green eyes that were quivering with wide pupils.

“Korra,” Asami started to say softly. Korra sat up quickly.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted out. “I just--I don’t know--It’s--well shit--My bad!” A slew of cut off sentences and stutters flew out of Korra’s mouth, and Asami couldn’t get a word in edgewise. She pushed herself up. The more Korra babbled, the deeper the furrow in Asami’s brow got. Until--

“I didn’t mean it!” Korra nearly shouted. Asami blinked. The concern in her face slid off into something...blank. Just empty. Asami looked at Korra for two breaths.

“You didn’t mean it?” she asked softly.

Korra shook her head wildly. She was clinging, clinging _desperately_ to any shred of possibility that they might stay just as they were. She wished her heart would stop hammering in her ears so she could hear Asami more clearly.

Asami’s downcast eyes looked past Korra, and her lips came together to form a small line. “Okay,” she said, and she lowered herself to the pillow, back to Korra.

Korra stared at Asami’s figure. Wait, was that it? What just happened? What had she done? She dropped herself back down, too ashamed move back into her own bed and let Asami know how uncomfortable she’d made everything. Likewise, Korra turned her back on Asami, pulling the covers up over her shoulders.

She’d count 257 minutes by the light of the alarm clock before sleep would finally take her.

* * *

Korra woke with a gasp. She definitely needed to get a new alarm tone, because she was awakened everyday thinking a nuclear device was going to go off on her nightstand. She tried to sit up, but found the task much harder than usual.

The heavy weight on her chest was back, and instead of fighting it, she collapsed back onto the bed, releasing the breath she’d been holding. Korra had almost forgotten about her mishap with Asami. Looking over to the other side of the bed, she was not the least bit surprised to find it empty, though the evidence that someone had recently been there had not yet been erased.

Korra rolled over onto Asami’s side, pulling the covers back up over her. It wasn’t yet cold; the warmth from Asami’s body hadn’t dissipated yet, and Korra snuggled in closer. Part of her wondered where Asami had run off too, and she considered chasing after her. But another part remembered how badly she fucked up last night, and so she was content to stay in bed, sniff things that smelled like Asami, and possibly fall asleep for the rest of forever.

Korra rubbed her hands over her eyes and blew out a huge breath. Mako was right (again). She couldn’t do things halfway. It’d only been one day living together and she’d already tried to make a move. She flopped over onto her stomach, groaning into the pillow.

 _Fuck my life._  

* * *

Korra hadn’t seen Asami all day. She was completely distracted, mistakenly trying to put her left shoe on her right foot repeatedly until Coach Su clicked her tongue and pushed the shoe onto the correct foot. Korra blinked a few times, confused as to how Coach Su had suddenly appeared in front of her and surprised she had somehow made it to practice.

All she could think about was Asami.

W _here was she? Is she okay? Should we talk about this? Is she mad at me? How did she get her stuff? Was she kissing me back? We should definitely talk about this._

Each thought brought two feelings: the overwhelming urge to vomit and a tiny bit of bliss, because she'd finally gotten to kiss Asami, and yet she knew it might cost her everything.

Speaking of, Asami had come striding into the gym, sitting on the opposite edge of the bleachers, as far away from Korra as possible. It might’ve been her imagination, but she could’ve sworn the whole team did a collective look between Asami and her. She cast a suspicious look over at Zhu Li, who at least had to the grace to look away. Kuvira was glaring and Eska was staring at her. At least those two were par for the course.

And Asami, well Asami was just tying her shoes, like nothing was wrong, except she was on the wrong side of the bench and Korra had fucked up last night and _everything_ was wrong.

This time, Korra took to the front of the pack, and Asami lagged in the back through their warm up jog. Korra knew when she as being avoided, jealous girls used to do it to her in high school, and Asami was avoiding her like they were the strongest magnets in the world facing the wrong way. If only she could switch their polarity.

Korra felt her eyes roll. That kind of geeky thing was something Asami would say. And thinking of Asami only brought on a fresh wave of nausea. It was kind of smart though, so she congratulated herself on that at least.

The coaches set up a three-on-three scrimmage (plus one sub), because somehow, whoever stupidly made the team only selected eight girls instead of the usual twelve, which meant they couldn’t scrimmage a full five-on-five. Whatever. To everybody’s great big fucking delight, Asami was paired with her, along with Ming Hua and P’li.

Korra dribbled the ball, assuming the point role, and examined the layout of the players. Eska was coming up to guard her, Kuvira hovered near Asami and Ming Hua was standing near Ginger. Okay, cool.

She moved forward, inching right, and Ming Hua backed up from Ginger. That meant Asami would break for the corner, she loved that corner three, and Korra saw her twitch slightly. She passed the ball into the open spot, anticipating where Asami would end up, but...no one was there.

The wall clanged loudly as the ball hit it. Coach Lin blew her whistle.

“That’s a great fucking way to start the game, Korra. What the hell was that?”

Korra quickly glanced at Asami, only to find her pointedly looking elsewhere. She rubbed a hand over her neck. “Sorry Coach, it, uh, slipped?”

“Uh huh,” Coach Lin sneered, not believing her in the slightest. She turned and walked away. "Your brain slipped," she added as she walked away.

Eska now had the ball, and it baffled Korra each time to see someone so stiff and unyielding dribble the ball so deftly. But now was not the time to ponder that, because Eska was breaking, and Korra followed only to get the wind knocked out of her as her right shoulder collapsed into her chest.

“Oof,” she groaned, looking up into a wall of Kuvira Smirk. _Fuck_. She just got picked like a goddamn apple off a tree. Any other day she’d see that coming before the thought even formed in Kuvira’s tiny little gorilla brain. Instead she to deal with those crazy brows wagging at her right now.

“Hey Korra,” Kuvira drawled in a teasing manner. Korra pushed her away, jogging to take the inbound pass.

She came across half court, but this time, Kuvira came to defend her, not Eska. Korra passed to Asami, who thankfully, was where Korra thought she would be. She freed herself from Kuvira and broke inside towards the paint, expecting Asami to hit her with a pass mid-stride. But the ball went to Ming Hua instead, who tried to make a difficult shot through Ginger’s arms. No go.

Korra groaned. Kuvira lagged behind just long enough to throw in a taunt. “Looks like your girlfriend doesn’t want to give you the ball anymore.”

“Fuck off, Kuvira.”

Korra dribbled the ball over once more, looking past _Crazy Brows_ to the rest of the court. She outspun Kuvira quickly and drove to the basket, Ginger as the only obstacle between her and her goal. But the redhead moved in front, bumping Korra with her Kardashian-sized ass. Korra collapsed to the ground as the ball rolled out of bounds.

“What the hell?!” she yelled, launching herself up to her feet and shoving Ginger roughly. She and Ginger shared a few heated moments of eye daggers before Ming Hua grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Korra wasn’t at all surprised when a whistle blew.

_“GET THE HELL OFF MY COURT!”_

It was obvious who the announcement was referring to. Korra stalked off the floor, irritation seeping out of her pores. She flopped onto a chair with attitude and huffed angrily. Coach Lin kneeled in front of her with the same look of irritation as when someone erases all the preset stations on your car radio.

“You are done for today. We have our most important game in two days and I can’t have you fumbling around court with a thumb up your ass.” Korra’s teeth clenched and her eyes narrowed, but she nodded silently.

Blood pounded in her ears for another minute and Korra spent it casting dirty looks at everyone around her. But the adrenaline wore off, and the frustration gave way to dejection and disappointment. It’d been a while since she’d had lost her composure on the clock.

She shook her head, regretting blowing up at Ginger and even being such a sucker for Kuvira’s taunts. She’d gone nearly a decade dealing with Kuvira and she loses it over one measly practice? Fucking peasant. Her hands released and it was only then that she realized she been digging her fingernails into her palms, leaving little crescent-shaped marks.

Asami hadn’t so much as made eye contact with her. Hadn’t swooped in front of Korra with her long black hair, hadn’t touched Korra on the shoulder to get her attention, hadn’t even passed her the fucking basketball. But Asami looked no worse for the wear; she was still floating everywhere like a butterfly, stinging like a bee, dropping points left and right. All without Korra.

_Maybe she was meant to be without Korra._

_Oh fucking christ. Now look what’s she’s done, she’s gone and made me refer to myself in third person._ But Asami wasn’t smiling, wasn’t laughing, and Korra was definitely not wrong about the stiffness of her shoulders.

Realizing that she was going to be spending the rest of practice sitting on the bench like a child on timeout, Korra fumbled around in her bag to find her headphones. She plugged them in, swiping her phone on.

_Where the hell is that Adele playlist?_

* * *

So she might’ve listened to way too many sad Adele songs by the time practice ended. And she may have changed around the words to “I’ll never find someone like you,” but whatever. At least practice was over. Now she could go back to her hotel room and she and Asami could pretend like the other didn’t exist (they were already doing a great job) in a twenty by twenty box.

Korra threw her shoes and phone in her bag unceremoniously and rose to leave.

“Korra, wait.”

She internally groaned. She could feel Coach Lin’s crossed arms and Coach Su’s worried face and Coach Kya’s pursed lips. This was going to be ‘A Lecture.’ She steeled herself and turned around, hoping her face was shaped into something that appeared complacent and nonchalant.

“Have a seat,” Coach Kya motioned, “we want to talk to you.” Korra cast one last look at her retreating teammates, hoping maybe one of them would rescue her, but no such luck. They were out the door. Asami was nowhere to be seen.

“Come on, come on,” Coach Su cooed, nearly shoving Korra down with surprisingly gentle hands. “Okay, sweetie,” she said, with a pat to Korra’s knee, “now what seems to be the problem?”

“Nothing.”

All three of them shared looks that all clearly said the same message: _Bitch thinks she can lie to us._

“Alright,” Coach Lin said with an eye roll, “I’m just going to say it then. How are things with you and Asami?”

Korra flinched. “Fine.” What were they getting at?

“Korra, honey,” Coach Su said, and Korra really wished she’d stop with the pet names because she was not some child, but a full grown adult who just so happened to have a childish crush on her teammate.

“Does she still have that boyfriend?” Coach Kya asked. Korra looked at her, eyes wide, disbelief forming at the smirk on her coaches’ faces.

“What---I---You---How---” Korra couldn't form a complete sentence. Coach Su sighed softly.

“How did we know?”

Korra nodded silently.

“Oh Korra, we do know a lot more than you think.”

“Also your aura’s been kind of off color--” Coach Kya interjected.

Suyin resumed without missing a beat. “And we’ve been on enough teams to know when one person is falling for another.”

“Or in your case, tripping over your own two goddamn feet.”

“Lin!” Su scolded.

“What? It’s true! It’s almost as bad as when Kya was hopelessly pining over that Fire Nation girl.”

“Hey! I was not hopelessly pining!”

“ _Girl please_ , I saw that basketball you wrote the love note on. ‘You’re a slam dunk in my heart.’”

“Oh my goodness, that’s right! Remember when Kya tied a Valentine’s balloon to the hoop and when it floated to the ceiling it shorted out the lights?”

“Shut up Su, or I’ll tell Bataar that you wrote her a love poem too!”

Suyin crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow. “Do it, he likes girl-on-girl stuff. And it wasn’t just a poem, it was a haiku.” She recited:

 _eyes watching you moan_  
_feeling you writhe against me_  
_face between your legs_

That was it. Korra gagged loudly, reminding the Golden Girls that she was still there and now she was _supremely_ uncomfortable. They all turned to Korra, clearing their throats and straightening their clothes, pretending to be professionals once more.

“Korra,” Kya said, as if the previous minutes of _completely_ inappropriate conversation didn’t happen, “We see you as the leader of this team. They follow you. Your tempo, your pacing, your energy. So when you have a bad day, we all have a bad day. Whatever it is with Asami, you need to get this sorted out. Maybe you should think about talking about more than basketball. Maybe do some yoga.”

“We do!” Korra countered. “We talk about TV and school and shopping…” she trailed off, spotting the condescending looks.

“Korra,” Su said gently, “Lesbehonest. We know you like Asami.” _Whoop there it is._ Korra understood what they were asking from the very beginning, but for someone else to voice it aloud. Well, it kind of stung. She looked away. How could she be such an open book?

“Am I that easy to read?” she asked.

“You ain’t the Rosetta Stone,” Coach Lin remarked.

Coach Kya put a hand on her arm. “You are honest, and there’s nothing wrong with that. That is who you are. But you also wear your emotions on those shooter sleeves of yours.”

“So, do you think Asami knows?” Korra asked, dreading the answer.

Coach Lin cocked her head, Coach Kya rolled her eyes, and Coach Su smiled sympathetically.

“I think she’s known for a while, sweetie.”

Korra froze. Asami knows. She’d kissed her last night, yeah sure, but Korra believed Asami had been in the dark until that point. Now, she likely knew that Korra was crushing on her from before that? How long? When did she know? Was it after the bike ride? Was it after their fight? Was it from when they first met? Korra’s mind flooded with possibilities and scenarios, unaware that her body was starting to hyperventilate.

“Great, now you broke one of my starting guards,” Coach Lin said, sarcasm heavy like molasses.

Korra blinked; she was still in the presence of her coaches.

“Kid, it’s alright. We won’t tell, but I want you to get your act together. Talk to Asami and fix it. If you can’t fix it, you better figure out a detour, because I won’t play you if your head can’t be in it.”

Korra nodded, and they let her leave. As she walked out of the gym, she pondered how she was going to get Zefron to magically appear and yell at her to “Get’cha head in the game.”

* * *

Korra never made it back to the hotel. Instead, she sat in a hipster coffee shop, mindlessly sipping a latte, which was a bad idea in itself, because when you’re trying to slow down your thoughts, coffee is the last thing you need. She ruefully regretted not getting some fancy chamomile tea or something.

She thought up various scenarios, all of which ended pretty badly.

  1. Korra tells Asami how she feels, Asami cries and never wants to see Korra again.
  2. Korra talks to Asami, but Asami tells Korra they should just be friends.
  3. Asami avoids Korra for the rest of eternity.  



         Or the worst one of all:

    4.  Korra confesses to Asami, Asami confesses she likes Korra back, then says they can never be together because she has a boyfriend, or she’s betrothed to a prince, or their social classes prevent it, or she has a terminal illness like Mandy Moore did in A Walk to Remember.

“Hello.”

Korra yanked out her earphone, surprised to see Eska sitting beside her (completely fucking flabbergasted would’ve been a better description).

“Hi,” she said tentatively.

“You should not fight with Ginger,” Eska said in a monotone voice, clearly not one for pleasantries or foreplay.

“Yeah I know, she’s a teammate.”

“She has the consistency of an amoeba, so all the force you generate will dissipate when you make contact with her. I believe an equal comparison would be like jumping on a waterbed. The odds are not in your favor.”

_Oh good, so if there were a basketball Hunger Games, we could use Ginger as a shield because her giggly body would cause everything to rebound off her._

“You are sad," Eska said robotically.

“Yeah no shit,” Korra said immediately. Why was everyone bagging on her all of a sudden? “Wait--what?” She looked at Eska with confusion. Eska doesn’t care about emotions. Doesn’t care about people all that much either.

“You are sad,” Eska repeated. “When you are sad, the whole team is sad.”

“So I’ve been told.” This was probably the real life equivalent of a text conversation.

“Are you sad because Sato is avoiding you?”

Korra considered Eska for moment, but Eska spoke before she answered.

“Is it because you have romantic emotions for the Sato girl?”

“Oh my fuck. Even you know?!” Korra exclaimed.

Eska looked at Korra, unblinking, as if the answer was undeniably obvious.

“I also know,” something in Eska’s pocket sounded, and Korra jumped.

“What is that?”

Eska extracted the phone, and on screen was her carbon copy twin, Desna.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Korra said exasperatedly, rubbing her hands over her face. Her patience was wearing painfully thin. “What is this about, Eska? And Desna?”

“Why is Sato avoiding you?”

“Ah, well, that’s kind of private,” Korra mumbled. Eska was as still as a 3D cardboard cutout and Korra realized she wouldn’t go blabbing to the rest of the team (unlike Ginger). And well, if she was afraid of being judged, they’d already crossed that bridge because Eska judged her everytime Korra was in her line of sight. So she decided to just fuck it all because there was really nothing left to lose.

“I kissed her last night.”

Eska didn’t move. Korra actively caught a hand that was going to reach out and see if Eska had somehow transformed into a wax figure in the last minute.

“What is the problem?" she asked flatly. The robotic voice made Korra feel like she was getting a therapy session via automation. _Rent a Robot Friend, only $2.99 an hour and all the oogies you can handle._ "Are you a bad kisser? Shouldn’t she have enjoyed it?”

“I am a GREAT kisser!” Korra retorted, earning her a few raised eyebrows from nearby tables and one leery grin from a creepy guy with a mustache. She hid behind a hand. “It wasn’t my kissing that was the problem,” she hissed.

“I think it is, your lips are so chapped.”

“What?”

“You must use lip balm. I would not want to kiss your chapped lips as well,” Desna’s muffled voice came through Eska’s pocket.

“I--It was cold okay!” Korra replied defensively, but nonetheless, she ran her tongue over her lips, wetting them. “The problem is that I kissed her and she’s a girl and she has a boyfriend.”

"And I said I didn't mean it," Korra added woefully. A searing pain ran through her chest as she said it aloud. She'd lied to Asami. It was the most untrue statement she’d ever made. _Fuck_.

"Well that was a lie," Desna said from the pocket, "Clearly Korra is not as emotionally transcendent as we are." Korra swallowed the _What the Fuck_ that threatened to voice itself.

Eska pulled her phone out once more, making eye contact with Desna, and staring at him for a really long, really uncomfortable thirty seconds, which Korra spent sipping her latte and just wondering what the hell was going on.

“I agree,” Eska eventually said, restowing the phone. She turned to Korra. “We think it is probably best that we not tell you.” Korra’s eyebrows creeped up.

“Tell me what?”

“That is beside the point. You must find Sato, and tell her your feelings.”

“What?”

“Yes, you must tell her and trust in fate for everything to fall into place.”

“Fate?! You believe in fate?!” Korra said incredulously. “I thought you’d be an atheist who only believes in strictly science and logic.”

“We are,” Eska said unblinking, “but there are somethings that we grant an exception to. Destiny is involved in two things: the outcome of the Superbowl, and true love.”

Korra, in mid-swallow of coffee, gagged and spit onto the table. The rest of the shop was looking at them now, and she gave a few hacking coughs, trying to regain normal breathing. A worker hustled over and wiped up the spat latte, and Korra thanked him through bloodshot eyes.

“True love? You think it’s true love?” Korra said weakly.

“You must talk to Sato,” Eska said flatly, and Korra knew they weren’t going to elaborate.

“Why are you helping me? I thought you didn’t like me?”

“You are right.”

“I too, do not like you,” Desna said from Eska’s pocket.

“Then--”

“I do not like watching pitiful humans mope around as their emotions dictate their actions. While _I_ enjoy the satisfying sink of misery, it does not fit your features. Also, I dislike Kuvira more than you. I would like to win the next game and you give us the best calculated odds.”

“Oh wow, Eska,” Korra said, a hand rubbing the back of her neck, “I’m...touched.”

“Yes,” Eska said rising. “I need to leave,” and with that she pivoted a perfect ninety degrees to her right and walked out of the coffee shop, parting the other customers like an emo Moses.

The weirdos were probably right. Asami had been the one to seek Korra out the last time. She’d been the one to try and mend their friendship. This was Korra’s turn to prove their friendship was worth saving. She at least owed Asami that. Even if it would end in a burning inferno so horrible she might get a definition on Urban Dictionary.

_**Korra (n.)** _

_a foolish person who lacks social skills, and obliterated her best friend relationship and romantic potential all in one fiery, flaming explosion._

_Person 1: Hey did you hear Mike tried to make out with Bryan? Now they’re mortal enemies._  
_Person 2: Oh man, they were best friends, he totally pulled a **Korra**._

Korra shrugged her shoulders. It is what it is. Or will be.

But at this point, Korra had nothing to lose. Only Asami, and that was not worth losing for anything. Somehow, Eska and Desna had rekindled the small spark of hope in Korra. Maybe Asami feels the same. Maybe they really can fix this. She smiled as she tossed the remainder of her latte in the trash and pushed the door to the outside open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No cliffhanger today. Sorry folks. It was fun while it lasted. It was just like how every korean drama episode ends. My life is a goddamn drama right now. Somebody with fantastic hair better come in and swoop me off my feet soon.
> 
> Isn’t Korra absolutely, irritatingly, obliviously dense at this point? Denser than unbendable platinum.
> 
> I've been having a really shitty past two weeks (past few months really). I didn't even proofread this that much. Lemme just say that the nice things you write really help.
> 
> ...Oh my god I've turned into a sap.


	7. There's Not Enough Room in this Closet for the Both of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was this it? Were they a broken mirror, destined to be separate shards messily pieced back together into something whole?
> 
> Just a warning, the only humor you'll find in this chapter is if you squint or make it up.

The amber of dusk had already faded into the purple of evening. If her impending doom hadn’t been looming, Korra might’ve taken the time to appreciate the spread of colors in the night. Instead, she steeled herself as she walked up the hotel steps.

 _Just talk to Asami,_ that was it. She could do this, and whatever the consequences, she’d accept them. Korra turned the key in the lock.

From the doorway, the dim light of the lamp could be seen. “Asami?” Korra called. No answer. She pushed further into the room and tried again. “Asami?” she asked softly, but there was no reply. The object of her affection was already in bed, supposedly asleep. Korra frowned and realized that she would have to wait till morning.

She crawled into bed, throwing her head back on the pillow. She must be a really shitty kisser if Asami was willing to avoid her for a full twenty-four hours. The ceiling had never seemed more interesting. The tension of the day slowly leaked out, and with it, Korra’s energy. Emotionally and physically exhausted, she let sleep take her.

When Korra woke, the bed next to hers was vacant once again. Asami had somehow sneaked off without Korra even stirring.

_This was like the worst one night stand ever._

Korra pulled the covers back over her head. She clutched a pillow tighter to her chest, feeling as empty as the adjacent bed. She’d wait here, for Asami to come back, even if every cell in her body was telling her she wouldn’t. 

* * *

As Korra put on her shoes, she steadied herself for round two of their tango. Sure enough, Asami came into the gym alone, distanced herself from Korra, and promptly ignored her. But her hair was still perfect, and a small part of Korra couldn’t help but admire that.

Practice was a little better than yesterday. Korra hadn’t made any bonehead plays, or caught the ball with her face, or tried to pick any fights. In fact on a scale of yesterday’s practice to best practice ever, it was smack dab in the middle. It was wasn’t better or worse than any other practice. It was just….ordinary. She worked with her teammates and directed them into positions. She made good, sometimes great, plays. She listened to the coaches and took constructive criticism. But it wasn’t the same. It felt hollow. Having Asami understand and anticipate what she wanted to do on the court, well, it was priceless.

_Once you go 22, you can’t go back to you how you used to do._

The big game was tomorrow, and Korra needed to sort out whatever this was before then. How could they expect to win a game against the Earth Kingdom if they couldn’t even properly play the game between themselves?

Korra spotted Asami trying to leave in the throng of teammates. She threw her stuff in her bag haphazardly, weaving through a sea of arms to reach out and grab Asami’s.

“Asami!” Korra called, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. Asami halted, but she didn’t turn around. “Can we just talk? Please?”

The rest of the team continued filing out of the gym, most of them not sparing them a glance, though Ginger did waggle a knowing eyebrow at her. Korra made a mental note to apologize later, then punch her in the gut.

“I know you’ve been avoiding me, and I just want to talk.”

Asami stood still for a second, before turning around, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Korra froze.

Asami crossed her arms, fixing Korra with an irritated look, as if she’d rather be anywhere else than standing there. It’d only been one day and Korra’s built-up armor had already softened to Asami’s (endless) charms.

“Yes?” Asami asked, cocking an eyebrow, and waiting for Korra to continue.

Except Korra had lost her train of thought from the impromptu Vidal Sassoon commercial. In fact, she’d forgotten 95% of the practiced checklist she’d gone over twenty times. So she improvised, which also had a 95% chance of failing miserably.

“I, uh,” she stuttered, “Our game’s tomorrow, and you, I wanted to go over some plays, and tapes, you know, like we usually do.” That sounded half assed, even to Korra.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Asami wasn’t fooled. “So that's it? That’s all you want to talk about? Just what our game plan is?”

A loud obnoxious cough shook them from their private moment. The three coaches had chosen that second to make their (not-so-silent) exit. Coach Lin ignored them, Coach Kya gave Korra a thumbs up and Coach Su winked and they were _totally not sneaky about it at all._ Korra turned back to Asami.

“I--no,” Korra said as her shoulders sagged in defeat. Everything came back to her. “Asami, I wanted to apologize.” Those beautifully sculpted eyebrows went up a twinge, and Korra knew she’d piqued her curiosity.

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for the other night,” she said, running a nervous hand over her neck. “I shouldn’t have done that. Kissing you, I mean. It was selfish and stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.

“You’re just amazing, and I’m not, and I know you have a boyfriend, but I just, I really like you, like more than a friend, and I don’t even know if you like girls, you know, like that. But you’re amazing and whatever and like, if I could write sad songs about you I would, and if I could play a guitar, I’d get a can and set up on a street corner and sing about you.”

_Oh god._

This was coming out all wrong. The thoughts were there but Korra couldn’t put words in the right order. _Come on Korra, don’t fuck it up._

“Korra,” Asami started to say, but Korra cut her off.

“Please Asami, just let me finish.” Korra held her breath, slowing the word garbage that wanted to spew. When she spoke again, her words were clear, her voice steady. “I wanted to apologize for that because you have a boyfriend and that is something that should not happen. It’s unacceptable. But I also wanted to apologize for lying to you.” Asami’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but she remained silent. The tension was thickening like cement around them.

“I was lying when I said I didn’t mean it.”

Korra looked down, away from those green eyes, otherwise she might not be able to say what was next. “Asami, I really like you, and not just as a friend. So much more than a friend. You are wonderful and smart and talented and just such a good person.

“I get it, if you’re creeped out or scared of me, but I swear Asami, I just don’t want to lose you. You are one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and even if you don’t like me, you know, like that, I promise I can just be your friend. Even just teammates, I could do that too. You don’t have to talk about anything but basketball with me, that’s fine too.”

Korra realized as she was speaking, she was willing to grasp at any thread that still let her stay connected to Asami. “I’m not trying to confuse you, or wreck your relationship, not that I’d even have a chance, but I just had to tell you the truth.”

Asami reached out, taking Korra’s hand in her own. She met her gaze. “Korra, you are a great friend, and I’m glad you told me this. But this is also really...different for me.” Korra nodded, bracing herself for the inevitable rejection. Her palms were sweaty, and every beat of her heart was thudding loud in her ears. Korra grit her teeth and blinked a couple of times; tears would not spill from her. Asami wasn’t saying anything, just looking at her with empty, emotionless eyes.

And it terrified Korra. It scared her far more than Asami’s ire or unhappiness. Korra had no idea where she fell in the grand scheme of things. Her arms were suddenly so very heavy and she couldn’t feel her feet. How many seconds had passed? Ten? Twenty? Each one drew on long and dense, and as they ticked by, they slowly stole Korra’s strength.

“I think I just need time,” Asami said finally. Korra nodded slowly, and a bit rigid, not really sure if she was relieved or crushed by Asami’s non-committal answer.

“Can we still be friends?” Korra asked, hoping that she hadn’t pushed too far.

“I don’t know,” Asami said as she pulled her hand out of Korra’s. “I need to figure this out by myself. I need some time to think.” Her were eyes watery as she folded her arms over herself. Asami turned on her heel and walked out.

“Asami, wait,” Korra called, but didn’t chase. There was nothing behind her words. She hadn’t expected Asami to stay. Her feet stayed rooted to the ground, her mind still reeling. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to smile or cry. So she did both. She sat on the ground, tears leaking out of her eyes, a grimacing smile pulling at her face.

* * *

Korra mindlessly flipped through the channels. She’d watched at least four hours worth of TV, and yet she couldn’t recall any one minute of what she’d watched. She glanced over to the bed opposing hers. It lay perfectly made, undisturbed from the last visit of the maid. The clock dinged 9:00 PM.

Asami still hadn’t returned, and Korra had spent hours pondering their precarious situation.

Was this it? Were they a broken mirror, destined to be separate shards messily pieced back together into something whole?

Then, the locked clicked and the light of the hallway spilled onto the carpet. Korra sat up quickly, feeling a little dizzy as her blood struggled to keep up. Asami walked in, arms full with books and a paper bag. Korra stayed still, unsure of where they stood. They were feet apart, but they may as well each have been in a galaxy far, far away. Asami broke the ice.

“Hi,” she said a little tentatively. Korra played along.

“Hey,” she said as emotionally even as she could. Which probably wasn’t that even at all. They were masters of conversation at the moment.

Asami pulled out a bag of Fire Flakes. “I got us some snacks. I thought we could go over some plays and tape for tomorrow?” She shrugged meekly. And just like that, the tension in the room was cut.

Korra smiled and patted the spot next to her. “Sounds perfect.”

Things were as it was, except Asami was obviously holding back. She was lacking the normal obsessiveness and passion that usually consumed her during tape sessions. Half an hour in, she paused, dropping the board and letting the pen tumble out of her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Asami said softly, eyes not meeting Korra’s. “I know I’ve been acting really weird lately.” Korra reached out a hand, almost putting it on Asami’s, before catching herself and rubbing her own knee instead.

“Nah, it’s my fault, I made it weird first,” Korra shrugged. Asami met her eyes, smiling. She sighed.

“You were honest with me, so I’ll be honest with you.”

Korra couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling of dread deep within her stomach. _Here it comes._

“Korra, I care about you, a lot, but--”

“But not in that way right?” Korra couldn’t help the cynical bite back. She dropped her eyes, looking out the window. Her heart had sunk to the pit of her stomach, joining up with the anxiety.

“No,” Asami shook her head. “You didn’t let me finish. I care about you a lot,” she repeated, “and I think, I care about you as more than friend.” Korra whipped her head around, looking at Asami with wide eyes. She wanted to say something, but her throat had suddenly gone dry. Actually, she wanted to jump up and down on the bed and do somersaults, but her stomach was already doing that for her.

“But--”

Korra wanted to punch something. There was always a godforsaken “but.”

“But I care about Iroh too,” Asami said in what Korra hoped was a really, really, really sad voice. Korra had forgotten Iroh and his perfectness existed for a second there. Was it possible to hate someone for not giving you a reason to hate them? The guy probably had a flock of panties that followed him everywhere.

“I’ve never done this before,” Asami continued. “I’ve never felt like this,” she motioned between Korra and herself, “for another girl. And I don’t really know what to do right now. I have to think this out.”

Korra sighed. Of course she had to think this out. She was Asami, and if Korra had any idea, she would use that beautiful brain of hers and come up with hundreds of scenarios and their thousands of consequences. She would think things through, and in her mind would be the largest algorithm ever constructed.

On the flip side, the complicated equation being calculated in Korra’s brain was **KORRA+ASAMI=HAPPYNESS**

“But we’re okay?” Korra asked, and it was really the only question she desired the answer to at the moment. Asami seemed to ponder it for a second, before nodding.

“Yeah we’re okay.” Azure met jade, and they locked eyes for a few heartbeats too long to be platonic. Korra blinked and reached for the diagram.

“Okay, come on, we gotta figure out how to deal with The Boulder.”

* * *

The Boulder was the star of Gaoling University, and now the Earth Kingdom National Team. She was huge, to say the least, and more than once Korra considered demanding to see a birth certificate to make sure she wasn’t part rhino. Besides her, they also had Ming, a fair shooter, but a defensive wizard who could steal the ball so deftly she was probably a pickpocket in her off time.

The bright lights were blinding as Korra stepped onto the court. The bleachers were sparsely filled at the moment, though she suspected that by the time the game started, they’d be playing in front of a full house. She looked up at the megatron screen above, to the scoreboard that said United Republic and Earth Kingdom. She glanced down at the jersey she was wearing, a simple black jersey with green accents and **United Republic** in large white letters. She smiled, a sense of pride coming over her, and she let the moment wash over completely. Her pre game song sounded from her headphones.

 _This is ten percent luck._ Korra swung her arms across her body, loosening her shoulders.  
_Twenty percent skill._ She alternated ankle grabs, stretching her quads.  
_Fifteen percent concentrated power of will._ She rolled her neck, shrugging her shoulders a few times.  
_Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain._ The beat started in her toes and worked it’s way up, and Korra’s body moved with it.  
_And a hundred percent reason to remember the name._ By this time Korra was nearly dancing all out, eyes shut, psyching herself for the game.

“Hey nerd,” Korra felt a shoulder bump hers. She snatched her headphones off her ears.

“Eep,” she squeaked. Asami stood next to her, dressed in the exact same outfit as her, except, holy shit, she made it look _amazeballs_. The jersey hung off her body perfectly, shorts showing the exact amount of leg to make your knees buckle. That familiar 22 was sewn in large white numbers on her back, her low-tied ponytail partially obscuring it. Korra grinned at her, the truest smile she’d had in days.

“You’re looking snazzy as always,” Korra tried. _What?! Where did that come from? Who says that kind of shit?_ God, she always sucked at giving compliments. Korra quickly dribbled a basketball, making sure that some evil basketball-playing space aliens hadn’t somehow zapped her skills and personality in one go. Asami met her grin with one of her own.

“Thanks. You ready?”

Korra tugged her shooter sleeves a little higher. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

As they moved through warmups, Korra felt more and more elated. She and Asami meshed perfectly together once again. It took a weight off her shoulders, which was awesome, because as she glanced over at the Earth Kingdom team, they’d need it. The Boulder looked like an inverted Hulk. She wore a sea green jersey and Korra was pretty sure her skin was a shade of purple. She shuddered and turned back to her side of the court, catching a ball from Asami and shooting.

Finally, everything was out in the open. She had told Asami how she felt, and Asami had (more or less) done the same. It was good to know that her feelings weren’t unrequited, though the logical part of her understood that they were still tangled in a horrible mess. She had to wait. Asami would come to her when she was ready, right?

She had to be patient. Korra would follow her end of the thread connecting her to Asami, holding tight through all the knots and tangles until they were unwoven and smooth.

She could do this, right?

On the other hand, at least Asami hadn’t flat out rejected her. Korra had been afraid to admit it, but she was petrified of being relegated to the dreaded Friend Zone, aka the Fog of Lost Souls. Where crushers have their hearts and souls ripped from their body by their crushes and thrown deep down into an impenetrable fog. And once you enter, there is no return. You are forever destined to remain there, _the friend_ , until some other poor soul comes along and pulls you out of your mutual misery.

But whatever worries Korra had about playing with Asami were quickly washed away once the game started. Anticipation passes were right on the money and Korra quickly racked up double digit points, with Asami racking up a handful of assists. The Boulder, however, was proving to be quite unmovable.

No one could deal with her down in the post. As good as P’li was, she was too thin to bump and shoot with The Boulder. Korra had a feeling that when she danced at a club, she could clear the floor with two hip shakes. Even double-teamed, The Boulder was still raining points like they were in a drought and she was suddenly the director of clouds. Korra and Asami were the only ones having success at scoring against her, mostly because they stayed out of her reach. But that meant they had to deal with Ming, who was reminding Korra so much of a buzzard wasp that she was beginning to wish she had a wasp swatter.

* * *

At halftime, things were not looking great, with the United Republic down fifteen points. It was amazing that they were only down three handfuls, because Korra felt like they were behind fifty. The scoreboard wasn’t at all indicative of the manhandling they were receiving on the court.

Korra approached Coach Lin on the side. “Hey Coach, can I talk to you?” They walked out of the locker room into the hallway.

“Coach I think we have to switch it up. We’re getting plastered out there.”

“We’re only down fifteen--”

“That’s not what I mean,” she said, ignoring her coach’s frown. “I know you see what I see. We can’t beat that behemoth in the paint, and we can’t get enough room to shoot around Ming.”

Coach Lin fixed her with an appraising look. “So what are you suggesting?”

“Let’s move to a four man spread,” Korra said. She spoke again quickly when Coach Lin was about to say something. “I know you don’t like going with only one post, but we’re not gonna get any offense going with The Boulder in the way, and Ming can’t guard four people at once.” Coach Lin crossed her arms, considering Korra’s proposal for a moment.

“Okay,” Coach Lin agreed, and Korra could’ve sworn there was a tiny little smile on her face. But she would need a microscope to be sure. “So who do you want?”

Korra crossed her arms. “Well, I think me, Asami, Kuvira, Zhu Li and Ginger,” Korra counted on her fingers.

“Ginger and Asami, huh?” Coach Lin said skeptically. It was clear the week’s earlier scuffle was still on her mind. Korra cocked her head.

“Ginger's our best defending forward. Maybe she can slow the hippo down a little.” When the only reply was a doubting frown, Korra went on, “Asami and I good now, it’s fixed.”

“So you guys are going out now?”

“What? No! We just--”

“I don’t care. Win the game.” 

* * *

“Okay,” Korra said to her huddled teammates. “We’re gonna change it up a little. We’re gonna do a spread, leaving only you inside the arc, Ginger.” The redhead cocked her head, but silently nodded.

“What about us?” Kuvira practically sneered. Korra ignored the tone.

“Asami and I are gonna feed you and Zhu Li the ball. We’re gonna get you guys open to drop some treys.” She locked eyes with Kuvira. “Just don’t miss.”

Kuvira scoffed. “Please, the only one that shoots air balls here is you.” Kuvira arched a brow and cast a knowing glance at Asami. _Oh this bitch,_ Korra thought as her eyes narrowed.

"You get me the ball and I will get us victory!" Kuvira announced, fist in the air.

“Yo, Kuvira, over here,” Korra motioned. “Stop making public service announcements to the stadium.” Kuvira’s eyebrows scrunched up some more, but Korra ignored her.

“Alright,” she clapped, “Let’s go!”

After they broke the huddle and jogged out, Korra placed a hand on Ginger’s shoulder. “Hey, wait.” Ginger turned to look at her. “Sorry about the other day. I lost my head there.”

Ginger smiled with those big red lips of hers. “Don’t worry about it, honey. Let’s win this game first, okay?” Her voice was far too saccharine and tweedy for Korra’s liking, but she rolled with it.

Korra grinned. “You got it. You gonna be able to handle The Boulder on your own?”

“Don’t worry about me deary, I’m a big girl.”

* * *

Korra’s plan was working. By the end of the third quarter, they’d manage to erase their fifteen point deficit and tie the game at 74 points. Korra collapsed onto the bench, gratefully taking a water bottle. Asami sat beside her.

“When I suggested the spread I never thought I’d be running around so much,” Korra complained in jest. Asami leaned back onto her hands.

“I could use a vacation,” she said, putting the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically.

_I’d go on a vacation if it’s just the two of us._

“Okay, okay, princess, but first, let’s win this game,” Korra said instead, rising off the bench and holding out a hand.

“You got it, superstar,” Asami said, as she took Korra’s hand, and together they shared a mutual guffaw.

With two minutes left on the clock, Korra was really appreciating the absence of Tenzin. Except he wasn’t really absent at all. Somehow, Fourth Quarter Tenzin was channeling himself through Korra at the moment. The lead had changed twelve times in the past ten minutes, and Korra’s nerves were fried like burnt Dough Aangs.

Korra dribbled across midcourt, looking for Asami. Ming was hovering near her, so she instead searched for Kuvira and Zhu Li. She dribbled towards the right corner, drawing the the attention of three nearby defenders. Ming stayed glued to Asami like she hoped. Korra drove over the arc, and The Boulder moved towards her. As Korra neared the paint, she turned and threw the ball back to a now wide open Kuvira. She stepped up and dropped a three, leaving her hand flipped at the top of its arc, clearly enjoying the moment as she shuffled back.

Korra nearly sprinted back, trying to keep up with the green jerseys. With a lack of time left, the EK had switched to an uptempo offense, trying to catch the UR on its heels. Thankfully, The Boulder was as heavy as she sounded, and they only had to deal with 80% of the team trying to get a fast break on them.

Korra and Zhu Li beat most of the opposing team down court, so the point guard had no choice but to hold up and set up the offense. They quickly shuffled the ball between each other, and the only thought on Korra’s mind was, “Don’t let the ball get to The Boulder.”

But because that’s always the way this kind of shit goes, at that moment, the basketball found itself in the grasp of two giant honking mitts. The Boulder pivoted and banked a shot off the backboard and through the hoop.

They were still up a point, Korra remembered as she took the inbound pass. She passed quickly to Asami, avoiding the full-court press. Asami passed the ball back to her, and Korra had to use some of the fancier tricks in her repertoire to keep the ball from getting stolen.

With the shot clock winding down, Korra thrust the ball to Asami moving across the top of the key, who passed to Kuvira. Kuvira drove towards the basket and found herself stripped of the ball by Ming.

_Oh shit._

Korra tried to hustle back, but she was a pace too slow. Ming passed to a wide open green jersey, who dumped it in for an easy lay up. Korra pressed her hands into her eyes. Fuck. They were down a point. And they only had twelve seconds on the clock.

Twelve seconds to get past the blockade of EK players, find an open man and put up a shot. She used her hands to make a “T.” The referee blew his whistle to indicate timeout, and the team huddled up.

Coach Lin brought out her board. “They’re going to leave The Boulder near the basket; so we won’t have to deal with her until we get down court. I don’t know where Ming will be, but Ginger and Kuvira, I want you guys getting in her way. Keep her away from the ball. Asami, let’s see one of those plays you’ve been working on.”

Asami’s eyes lit up like a child who’d just been told she could open her Christmas presents. Sne snatched a pen out of a coach’s hand and started drawing various O’s, X’s and arrows. Korra recognized the play; it was something they’d drawn up weeks ago. After the play was explained, everyone nodded. Asami had been so efficient with her diagram and explanation, there weren’t any unanswered questions.

Korra almost let out an impressed whistle. She wouldn’t be surprised if in three years Asami was ruling the world, calling herself The Great Uniter or something.

The Earth Kingdom had abandoned the full court press almost completely, with only one person to guard Korra as she received the inbound pass. The pressure was all on the UR anyway; they had to somehow get off a shot to win the game. Korra caught the ball from Zhu Li, dribbling around her defender and looking for Asami. She found the mane of black hair and quickly threw her the ball. Asami dribbled around the arc, setting the play.

 _Six seconds._ Korra moved toward the top of the key, her guard one step to her right.

 _Five seconds_. Zhu Li had gotten down court, coming to the right of Korra. Asami moved in towards the basket, drawing The Boulder and two more defenders with her.

 _Four seconds._ Korra rolled to her right, catching her defender on Zhu Li as the pick was set. Kuvira moved to her left, blocking Ming from getting anywhere important.

 _Three seconds._ Asami flung the ball across the court to the uppermost hash mark, where Korra would be. Korra caught the ball, free of any defenders, and stepped up.

 _Two seconds_. Korra pump faked, ducking underneath an outstretched arm.

 _One second._ Korra jumped and the ball left her fingers, rolling off in _just the right way_.

The clock hit zero as Korra’s shot fell through the netting, the loud buzz filling the arena. It was a few moments before the deafening roar registered in Korra’s ears. There was screaming and shouting and cameras flashing everywhere. Her face felt like it would split in two from smiling.

“Nice game, kid,” Coach Lin said with a hand on her shoulder and a nod of approval. Everyone was giving her high fives and Korra thanked them all profusely. She still wore that lopsided grin as she gave her post-game interview and little girls asked for her autograph. It was all such a blur. Congratulations and compliments all muddled into the people moving around, trying to get her attention. One figure was clear in Korra’s vision though.

Everyone was trying to get a statement or a picture from her, but Korra only had eyes for #22, standing a few people away with the biggest smile Korra had ever seen.

_God they were such a bunch of nerds._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the lack of funnies in this chapter. I had to get the story moving again, otherwise at this rate Korra will be old and graying before they get together.
> 
> I've seen a few comments along the lines of "What is Asami thinking?" This story is written with just Korra's voice, because although it's nice to see the other side, it's almost like getting to play a poker game while seeing everyone's hands. When you fall in love, you take a flying leap of faith and hope to god there's a net. We're all free falling with Korra.
> 
> Also yes, I've referenced my own gif set. Because I'm modest like that.  
> [Iroh+Panties](http://midoriakiko.tumblr.com/post/25807353482/flying-panties-attack-if-youre-wondering-where)  
> 


	8. You're the Reason for the Teardrops on My Basketball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra had finally found her balance. Her chest still ached when she saw Asami, or heard her laugh, or felt her touch, but she’d freed herself of the suffocating ardor. She was okay as they were, at peace with their relationship. The way they played together, the way they joked, the way they argued. Korra was fine with it. She realized at that moment, she wasn’t going to pursue Asami any further.

Korra’s cheeks ached from all the smiling, but her face wouldn’t let her stop. Her smile seemed permanently plastered. She looked over to Asami, who seemed to be afflicted by the exact same condition. The deafening roar of the crowd and their overzealous reactions only served to highlight the stillness of Asami.

Korra wove through her teammates, through the mess of jerseys and tangled arms to #22, who was standing off to the side, biting her lower lip, as if trying to quell the grin that kept threatening to shine through.

“Korra, you were amazing!” Asami shouted over the din.

“It was your play! We won because of you!” Korra yelled back. She really, really, really wanted to scoop Asami up in her arms, twirl her like Eric did in The Little Mermaid, and kiss her until her lips fell off.

Instead Asami’s arms began to open, and Korra melted into the heat of the moment. An overenthusiastic Asami hug was exactly how she thought it’d be. Her arms were firm and full of feeling, but with just a hint of restraint, and it still hit in all the right spots to make one think they’d died and floated to Hug Heaven.

_One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi…._

Korra wondered how many _Mississippis_ it would take before their hug would be promoted from _Friends_ to _Clexa_ , or how long she should wait before deciding to let go (which, if she had her choice, would be never). (Un)Luckily for her, Ming Hua saved them with an appropriately timed inappropriate comment.

“Oh, would you two just a get a turtleduck already,” Ming Hua sneered as she passed by. Asami immediately dropped her arms from around Korra and clasped her own hands in front of her. Korra rubbed her upper arm, desperately trying to think of something to say. Her internal cringemeter was nearing critical mass.

Korra shared a side glance with Asami, imagining riding in a turtle duck with her. Maybe they’d be holding hands, or maybe Asami would be tucked into her side, Korra’s arms around her--

 _No no no._ This chicken did not want to cross the road.

“Asami!”

Korra knew that voice. _You’ve got to be fucking kidding me._

Asami turned around, completely startled. “Iroh!” she yelped, and Korra liked to think that she didn’t say it with as much enthusiasm as last time. “What are you doing here?”

“We were at Full Moon Bay this week, I thought I’d drop in and see how you guys were doing. You played amazing babe!” He wrapped an arm around Asami’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Korra grimaced, suppressing the urge to vomit. At least she found a real reason to dislike Iroh. The guy popped up with surprises more often than gophers in Whack-A-Mole. Her irritation must’ve been palpable though, because Iroh turned his attention to her.

“Hey Korra, that last play was amazing! You’ve got balls of steel, man,” he praised. “ _Blue Steel_ , that is,” he added in his best Derek voice.

Korra laughed. “Thanks Iroh. Maybe next time I can work my way up to _Magnum_ -sized ones.” Every time Korra thought she could ice Iroh out, he would just be cool as fuck. What an asshole, man. How did she keep meeting people that defied the _Spirit Triforce_?

The _Spirit Triforce_ was very much like the Triforce of Hyrule, except instead of representing wisdom, courage and power, it consisted of being hot, being smart, and having a great personality. While being born, the spirits bestow two of them upon you. You may have less than two, but you can’t exceed the amount, although somehow, Iroh and Asami clearly were rule breakers out of the womb.

Asami had been oddly quiet. She stood in Iroh’s embrace, not looking at either of them. Maybe she felt as uncomfortable as Korra did. Iroh seemed to notice this though, because he pulled Asami closer into him.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You just won! Come on, let’s go celebrate! My treat again!” Iroh turned to Korra. “Hey Korra you too. Let me take you to dinner and you can guys can relive all the details!”

Korra’s insides clenched. She really didn’t want to third wheel with _Mr. and Mrs. Homecoming_ , but she didn’t really have a good reason to decline either. Maybe she could have a headache?

“Thank you,” Korra said, far from enthusiastic. “That is just the most wonderful news. Ever. Yay.”

“Korra!”

Korra wheeled around wildly, thankful for the reprieve. When she found the source of the voice, she let out an audible sigh.

“Coach Tenzin!”

He opened his arms and Korra almost leapt into them, so grateful to see a familiar face. Korra melted into Tenzin’s embrace. He was tall and warm and strong and it reminded her of being home, getting bear hugged by her dad. Mostly, it just felt safe.

Usually when Tenzin appeared out of nowhere to interrupt a conversation, Korra found it really annoying. It was like Tenzin had a cockblocking radar and it would tell him when and where he should show up to cause the most optimal cockblock. This time though, she couldn’t have been more happy to see him.

“Korra,” he greeted her warmly. “Hwhat a game! It looks like you’ve been training hard.” His blue grey eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

Korra nodded. “I’ve been trying. I’ve even started watching game tape,” she said sheepishly, rubbing her arm and glancing at Asami. Tenzin didn’t catch on though, instead just nodding impressively.

“It looks like it’s making a difference. You’re turning into the team leader I always knew you could be.” He put a hand on Korra’s shoulder proudly. “Why don’t I take you to dinner tonight? My daughter, Jinora, came with me and I’d sure she’d loved to hear all about it!”

* * *

Korra was still grinning as she walked into the locker room, high from victory. And as much as she may have tried to deny it, she was completely elated from working perfectly with Asami.

And _THE HUG._ That deserved a blog post. Or meme. Or gif set. Or reaction video on Youtube. Something.

Giddy like a mofo would've been a better description, you know, like in the words of the realests. Little tingles tickled her fingertips and she couldn't suppress the tiny stream of giggles that bubbled up out of her.

_Real cool Korra, such a nerd._

_Tee hee, nerd_. The word had found a new place in her heart since it seemed to be Asami’s new pet name for her. Korra grinned as she tossed things into her duffle bag. A stream of titters may have bubbled out of her like a badly shaken Pepsi, but Korra didn’t care.

"Well arent we a little _Gigglypuff_?" Coach Kya threw over her shoulder as she walked by, leaving a spluttering Korra in her wake.

* * *

Korra felt better than she had in a long time. The elation of victory had long overtaken the lingering feelings of gloom. It was still pulsing through her after her post game shower, as she shook the water out of her wet hair. Even thinking of Asami and Iroh couldn’t steal her sunshine. Korra plopped down into the backseat of Tenzin’s cushy rental car.

She let out a breath, finding that underneath the elation wasn’t jealousy or grief, but just contentment. Maybe she couldn’t be with Asami in the way she truly wanted, but putting herself out there, instead of letting it eat away at her slowly, had been the catharsis she had been so desperately seeking. The adrenaline rush of the game had peeled away all the surrounding layers, letting Korra see everything as it existed, free of the emotional ties she’d been attaching them too.

Korra had finally found her balance. Her chest still ached when she saw Asami, or heard her laugh, or felt her touch, but she’d freed herself of the suffocating ardor. She was okay as they were, at peace with their relationship. The way they played together, the way they joked, the way they argued. Korra was fine with it. She realized at that moment, she wasn’t going to pursue Asami any further. Not until Asami herself was ready.

Korra had shown all her cards, and she was fine with the hand she played. As she shut the door to the hotel room, she actually smiled to herself. If Asami decided she wanted her, Korra would be there, but if not, Korra wouldn’t interfere. She’d only want her to be happy.

To say she was flabbergasted when Asami came an hour later was an understatement. Korra hadn’t expected to see Asami until much, much later, assuming she’d be staying out late with her boyfriend.

“Hey you’re home early,” Korra commented, sounding very much like a soccer mom. She grinned, and it didn't feel forced at all.

“Am I?” Asami replied. “I didn’t realize I had a curfew. Or a parole officer.”

Korra felt the smile slide off her face quicker than a Mario Kart on Rainbow Road. The retort caught her off guard. She hadn’t meant anything negative, but Asami had definitely been a little snippy just now.

“Uh, sorry? I was just kidding,” Korra said tentatively. She might’ve come to an epiphany, but Asami was still reeling.

Korra tried to remember how it was for her when she realized that she had the same kind of feelings for girls as she did guys. It wasn’t anything special, there weren’t any angels descending from heaven playing Hallelujah on their harps, and there weren’t any demons coming from below to harpoon her and drag her into the depths of hell. In fact, Korra couldn’t recall any one incident that made it difficult for her. Her friends never questioned her, never stopped hanging around her, and her parents were completely amazing. She’d always been close with her dad, but Korra swore that he knew she was bisexual before she did. It wasn’t a ‘coming out’ conversation so much as it was her parent exchanging ‘I told you so’ looks.

Her thoughts shifted to Asami, and Korra realized how much easier it had been for her. The family and support were all things that Asami was so grossly lacking right now. She didn’t have a dad to lean on, or a mother to confide in. She didn’t have her friends here, and the one she did was completely head over heels in love with her, and coincidentally, the source of the problem.

Asami seemed to realize that she’d been a bit snooty, and toned it down. “I’m tired, so I didn’t want to stay out too late. Sorry.”

Korra nodded silently, watching as Asami turned her back on her and started fiddling with her phone.

Asami didn’t say anything to Korra for the rest of the night, sliding under the covers wordlessly.

* * *

Korra opened her eyes groggily, immediately noting that it was still dark, but there was definitely something moving around in the room. She immediately leaned on the Panic Button, assuming someone had broken into their room. She quietly slid the covers off her body, getting ready to assault the intruder.

But the door opened first, and cast against the bright light of the hallway, Korra immediately recognized the outline of her roommate.

“Asami! What are you doing?” she hissed.

Asami turned back to her, not surprised at all to see Korra up, and yet not deterred in the slightest. “I can’t stand being cooped up right now. I need to breathe.”

“It’s two AM! And the bus leaves at seven tomorrow!”

“I’ll be back in time,” she said defiantly.

“Asami wait!” Korra called, a useless hand going out after her. (Wasn’t that something that they do dramatically in animes after someone falls off a cliff?)

But Asami took off, striding down the hallway. Korra snatched her jacket and the top cover off the bed, bundling it up into a messy ball and running out the door. She just caught the tail of black hair turning a corner and took off after her. Asami entered the stairwell, ascending the stairs three at a time. Korra huffed a little chasing her; she could only take two at once.

_Curse her fucking long legs._

Korra pushed the door to the rooftop open, struggling a little to catch her breath. Asami sat on one of the walls, legs dangling over the edge. Korra approached her tentatively.

“Asami?” she said softly, not wanting to startle her. They were currently fifteen stories up, and Asami was just one big gust of wind from becoming a failed Airbender.

“Hi,” Asami said, before turning back to black abyss below them. Korra was still inching her way towards the ledge. Korra was not cool with this whole Lover’s Suicide schtick, and she was definitely not cool with hovering fifteen stories above the ground with a clear shot to the asphalt.

“Oh relax,” Asami said, sensing Korra’s discomfort. “There’s another ledge right below us. We won’t die tonight.” Korra peered over, and Asami was right. There was another ledge three feet below, nice and wide, and complete with a rail. Korra slung her feet over and sat next to Asami.

“Is it cool if I join you?”

“I guess.”

Korra chanced a look at Asami. Everything that had seemed so clear to Korra a few hours ago was once again clouded, like someone had decided that things were too easy for her, shook up the little snowglobe they were trapped in.

Asami shivered a little, and Korra draped the blanket around her shoulders. Korra sat there silently, desperately wanting to hear Asami voice her problems, and yet wanting to give her the space that she clearly needed. She swung her legs back and forth, giving her mind something to do, and finding another way to keep warm. It _was_ fucking freezing after all. She shivered as well.

“Here,” Asami said, holding open a half of the blanket for Korra to share. She sidled in gratefully. Asami pulled herself into Korra, wrapping an arm around Korra’s and resting her cheek against a muscular shoulder. The extra warmth was hard to resist, and Korra’s eyes fell shut, absorbing as much of it as she could.

“Why are you here?” Asami asked.

Korra shrugged. “I don’t know. You run, I follow.”

“You didn’t last time.”

“I wasn’t ready last time.”

“And you are now?”

“I think so,” Korra said honestly.

“I’m not,” Asami said soft, but clear.

Korra blinked, a sympathetic look gracing her face. She figured as much. Silence settled over them once more, the only sounds the din of the late street market below them.

And it was then Korra realized that her heart wasn’t thudding loud in her ears, that her palms weren’t sweaty, that she didn’t feel like her feet had to run a mile or her chest was three sizes too small. She realized that Asami curling up against her didn’t make her nervous anymore; instead she was calm. The stormy waters that churned her seas has settled into smooth glass, letting Korra float along.

Did this mean she didn’t care for Asami? Had her feelings faded?

That wasn’t right. Korra still felt the swell when Asami smiled, still felt her stomach drop when Asami gripped her hand, still felt a shadow cross her face when Asami was upset, yet the anxiety had all but disappeared. Maybe she really was ready.

“How far would you follow me?” Asami asked suddenly.

“I don’t know, not very, I don’t exactly have great cardio, you know.”

Korra felt Asami smile against her shoulder. “Nerd,” Asami said, to which Korra’s stomach fluttered a little.

“You’re safe here, you know,” Korra said gently. Asami didn’t move, but let out a small sigh instead. Korra liked to believe that it was in agreement with her, that Asami understood Korra meant she was safe _here_ , with her.

“Can I ask you something?” Korra asked, remembering something she’d been wondering about for a long time. Asami stiffened against her, clearly apprehensive about whatever Korra was going to ask.

“Depends.”

“Why number twenty-two?”

Asami let out an audible breath, and smiled. “You know how it goes, when you pick jerseys in high school, seniors pick first. I got called up to varsity when I was a freshman, so I was literally the last person to choose.”

Korra nodded; she’d experienced the exact same situation.

Asami continued. “My favorite number was already taken, and since I was on the taller side, there were only a couple of options left. It was either twenty-two or twenty-three.”

“So why not twenty-three? Most of my teammates were willing to spill blood to wear _His Airness’_ number.”

Asami scowled. “I didn’t want to wear a number someone else was known for. I wanted to be known for being me, you know?”

Korra nodded, suspecting it had something to do with Asami having a super famous dad.

“I didn’t want to keep changing it every year, so I just kept it. What about you?” Asami asked. “Why’d you pick your number?”

Korra shrugged. “It’s obvious isn’t it? Cause I’m number one.”

Asami rolled her eyes and Korra laughed. “I was the smallest one when I first started playing, so I got the smallest jersey. I just kept it ever since. It’s kind of like a pet; it just grows on you and you never want to lose it. So what number were you before high school then?”

Asami bit her lower lip, smiling strangely, though Korra didn’t know why. “I used to be number one too.”

“Twelve? You used to be twelve?”

“No you goof. I used to be number one also.”

“Oh.” Korra was surprised at first, before smiling. “Twinsies. That’s cool. You want it back?”

“No, it suits you.”

“You suit me.” That was reckless, Korra knew, but the words had flown freely, too honest and profound to be filtered. 

Asami frowned. “Don’t say things like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Korra said, and the discrepancy in sincerity was almost palpable.

A silence spread between them, only broken by the shouts and horns of below. A loud noise grabbed her attention. A man was closing up his little stand, securing each latch and bolt, and after he was done, he unlocked a nearby bicycle. He took one look back at the closed kiosk, before his shoulders slumped in on themselves and he shook his head, as if he was disappointed with the very existence of said kiosk. He lingered for just a second, before turning back to his bike and riding away.

"What are you thinking of?" Asami asked.

Korra wet her lips before speaking. "I was thinking that there are 8 billion people on the planet, and it doesn't matter what's going on in the world, each person has their own unique problems. That each person has their own struggles, indifferent of everyone else."

Asami stilled against her, and Korra only knew she wasn’t sleeping by her irregular breaths. Each breath grew a little harsher and raggeder, until...

"You’re right."

Korra raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"That my problems are pathetic." Asami pushed up and away from Korra, disentangling their arms. She continued, "There are children starving in the Air Nomad Territories, there’s nuclear warfare, bioterrorism, human trafficking, and the biggest worry I have right now is if I like a boy or a girl better."

"That’s not what I meant--" Korra countered quickly, smothering the giddiness she felt from Asami even considering returning her affections.

"But it’s right! It’s so selfish, to worry about these kinds of things when there are people out there who literally aren’t going to survive the night. It’s so stupid to be worrying about blog posts, or who your TV characters are fucking, or who’s a feudal lord or handmaiden, or how many likes your picture of lunch has! What makes my personal life so special? Isn't our life so simple?"

"That doesn't mean what goes on in your life isn’t important!"

"But it puts it into perspective."

Korra halted at that. What had Asami realized? Was it the same awareness Korra had reached? That they could at least be at peace with each other?

Asami swung her legs over to the safe side of the ledge. "Shall we go back down? Someone told me we have an early bus to catch tomorrow." She said it with control, the hesitation in her voice gone.

Korra nodded, swinging her legs over as well, and standing up.

* * *

The following morning, they’d packed silently, save for the mumbled good mornings that lacked eye contact. Korra boarded the bus, collapsing onto the open seat in the back of the bus. She scooted closer to the window, resting her head tiredly against the window pane.

Asami sat next to her, lips pressed together slightly. Korra spared her a side glance before gazing back out the window. After their Spiderman-like rendezvous, Korra was emotionally drained.

Asami seemed to be infinitely more complex, and as such, she required more time to sort through her complex emotions. Korra supposed it took more time to process than the basic happy, sad, angry, or completely-in-love-with-Asami emotions she felt. Until then though, Korra would have to deal with the boar-Q-pine-sized awkwardness sitting between them,

The bus began its slow rumble down the road, and soon the buildings and trees blurred as they whizzed by.

“So what happens now?” Asami asked. Korra was about to answer a bit snootily, with a sarcastic, “We sit on the bus until our asses bleed,” but the look on Asami’s face quickly changed her mind. Still though, she tried to keep the mood light-hearted.

“Well, according to the internet, I believe we quote and apply Taylor Swift songs to our lives as necessary.”

Asami grimaced. “The _internets_? You know--”

“Yes yes, I know of your immense dislike of Wikipedia--”

“Not dislike. Hatred. Hatred because--”

“Because everything on there is unsubstantiated and unsourced and subject to the whim of whomever is editing it,” Korra said flatly, reciting something she'd heard many times before. She was keenly aware of Asami’s requirement for proof and logic.

“Not everything is unmerited,” Asami countered, to which Korra crooked an eyebrow. Asami rolled her eyes. “There are _some_ things that are properly referenced.”

It was Korra’s turn to roll her eyes. “Okay, well returning from Planet Tangent, T. Swift--”

“Oh right, well, _all I know, this morning when I woke, is I know something now, know something now I didn’t before--_ ”

Korra’s interest was definitely piqued at her choice of song, but she played along gleefully. “A _nd all I’ve seen, since eighteen hours ago, is green eyes, and freckles and your smile--_ ”

Asami blushed, and changed the song. “A _re we out of the woods yet?_ ”

 _“I knew you were trouble when you walked in--_ ” Korra grinned, to which Asami rolled her eyes.

 _“And my daddy said, ‘Stay away from Juliet--’_ ” Asami wiggled an eyebrow.

_“And I think about summer all the beautiful times--”_

_“And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now--”_

_“Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break--”_ Korra chanced, knowing that she might be pushing too far with the lyrics.

But Asami didn’t miss a beat, like lightning on her feet. “ _Maybe if I had a blank space_ ,” she said solemnly, not meeting Korra’s eyes. “ _Baby_ ,” she added after a pause.

Korra laughed, even managing to keep the wryness out of her voice. Sometimes they were miles apart, and all it took was a couple minutes of cheesily reciting song lines to bring them back.

Asami laughed as well, leaning back into the seat.

Maybe it was because she was her emotional tank had long passed E, maybe it was because she’d only had three hours of sleep last night, or maybe it was because Asami was sitting next her, her shoulder the perfect height to lean on, but Korra rested her head on Asami, a little stiffly at first, before letting her weight settle completely.

“We’re just a beautiful mess, aren’t we?” Korra sighed, as her eyes drifted shut.

“Wrong singer, nerd,” she heard Asami say before she fell asleep.

* * *

They played a abhorrent game of hide-and-seek over the next few days, though Korra wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be the hider or the seeker. She’d barely seen Asami, only talking to her at practice, and each time Asami looked at her, she’d stared at her as if Korra were a bomb about to go off.

More than once, Korra considering cornering Asami (again), to ask her what she'd done wrong, but she recalled what had happened the last time, and decided it was probably best for both of them if she just stayed away.

But since they were meant to _Collide_ just like a Howie Day song, the universe deemed they could not be apart. Korra walked into the gym just after 10:00 PM to find Asami sitting on the highest bleacher, slouched over her knees, a hand on her head.

Korra considered leaving; Asami hadn’t yet seen her, and it would probably be the easiest thing to do. But sneaking away and hiding wasn’t in Korra’s repertoire. She wouldn’t live life being afraid. And she never could pick the easy road.

Korra dropped her bag gently onto the floor. As she ascended the bleachers, she started considering what to say, but before she knew it, she was standing above a slumped Asami, and her mind was still woefully blank. She sat down wordlessly, to which the other girl turned slowly, finally noticing Korra. Asami’s eyes were swollen and bloodshot, and even the woefully oblivious (AKA Korra) knew she had been crying.

Korra had a deep sinking feeling that the steaming pile of shit they’d built was going to meet the fan somewhere off in the distance.

“I broke up with Iroh,” Asami muttered without preamble.

“I’m sorry,” Korra said sincerely, yet resisting the urge to hold Asami’s hand or pull her into a hug. Korra didn’t ask why, having the feeling that she was probably a deciding factor.

“Are you okay?” Korra asked, mentally slapping herself for asking such a stupid question that even she herself hated.

“It was the right thing to do,” Asami said evenly.

“Mmm,” Korra hummed, not sure what to say. “I think you would know best.”

Asami seemed to get upset at that. “No!” she snapped. “I don’t!”

Korra turned, a rush of fear running over her. But she had no idea what to say at the moment. She didn’t even know what Asami was so angry about (besides the fact that she just broke up with her boyfriend).

“I don’t know what the right decision is anymore!” Asami said angrily.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always known what was right and what was wrong. I could always see what my path was, and it was clear. I’ve always done the right things. Go to RCU, take up engineering, study hard.”

Korra nodded. “You’ve done that,” she said evenly, trying to quell whatever fury was plaguing Asami, and yet trying not to incite her further.

“Get a scholarship for basketball, date Iroh. Fix cars, clear our family name! These were all the right things!”

“But now?”

“But now I don’t know what that the right thing is anymore. You’ve come in and you’ve--you’ve changed everything so much!" Asami seemed on the verge of tears, yet still strong enough to take down a bouncer. “You make me feel safe and needed and wanted!”

“Didn’t Iroh do that?” Korra was flummoxed. Asami was upset because she...cared?

“Yes,” Asami said irritably, “and no. It’s different! When you look at me, you stare like it’s the only time you’ll ever see me. You look at me, me, the real person standing there. You look at me as if I’m the only person in the room even though it’s a stadium filled with 10,000 people.”

Korra blushed; she may have done all of those things, and Asami not only noticed, she treasured it as well. “Then why can’t we be together?” Korra asked, not pleading, not begging, just asking, as if she were curious about the weather outside.

“Because,” Asami said, folding her arms over herself. “Because I’m afraid to lose what we already have. I’m afraid to lose you.”

Korra nodded, understanding the exact same feelings that had plagued her previously. “Asami, I’ve thought about this, and I’ve decided that I can live with myself as we are now. I won’t regret being your friend. I’ve said my piece, and I can’t make you love me.” Korra made a mental note to erase the Bonnie Raitt songs off her phone.

“You have to make your own decisions,” Korra added. “If you don’t think we should be together, that’s fine. But I know in my heart that that is absolutely wrong.” The words were more forceful than Korra intended, but she didn’t care. “I’m not saying we’re soulmates, or true loves or anything like that, but you fill in all my rough edges and faults. You fill my shortcomings. At the very least, I know we’re supposed to be friends.”

“And what if it doesn’t work out? What if _nothing_ works out?” Asami asked. It was obvious she was considering every option, every contingency, but Korra saw clear through to the end.

“Then it doesn’t matter. But at least we tried. Even if it doesn’t work out, even if we end up on separate ends of the earth, hating each other, it won’t be any worse than we are now.” Korra bit her lip. "Only if you want to."

“Okay,” Asami said, though she obviously lacked the conviction coursing through Korra’s veins. "Thanks."

Korra nodded, O-Town lyrics invading her head. It really was going to be all, or nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can’t finish each other’s sentences while quoting Taylor Swift, I’m sorry, that person is not The One. Time to move on.
> 
> These two assholes are absolutely ridiculous. They stop, they go, they let love in, they push it back out. They need to just give it up and give in.
> 
> And yes, I made tongue in cheek references to the stuff going on in the Korrasami tags. Play nice everyone.


	9. Whatever Will Be, Will Be...or Mexican Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If basketball didn’t pan out after college, Korra could definitely have a career adjusting insurance claims, since she was so good at denial. Maybe she and Asami could work in adjacent cubicles, denying claims and denying each other.
> 
> 目は心の鏡.

Despite their peace talk, Korra barely spent any time with Asami outside of practice. She knew when she agreed to give Asami space, she’d basically signed her own waiver to emotional torture.

Surprisingly, their teamwork during practice had been unaffected by the melodramatic lava pit between them. Korra could say, without bragging, that they were the best tandem duo on the court. But it seemed like that only applied on the court. Off the court was an entirely different ball game.

After the final team break, Asami would slip out, mutter goodbyes and whatnot to the team, and leave Korra to walk home alone. Which meant Korra would spend her post-practice walk home with her hands in her pockets and kicking rocks. You know what happens when you kick rocks? You accidentally kick one into a bush and cause an elephant rat to scurry out and crawl part way up your leg before you freak the fuck out and start whacking yourself. That’s what.

Then Korra’d go back to her dorm, alternate between push ups, spinning the ball on her finger, and one-legged squats. Eat, rinse, repeat.

It’d been six days since they agreed to be friends, but that plan was working out with all the success of Wile E. Coyote’s shenanigans.

Today, Korra paused as she passed by Asami’s dorm, debating whether or not to knock on the door.

_Fuck it._

Her impatience was getting the better of her again. She took a step towards Asami’s front porch. They’d agreed to at least be friends, and Korra was not going to let it be weird. She’d charge past the weirdness straight into downright cringe worthy. Whatever.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Was it divine intervention? Had she just been saved from committing some heinous, _cheesy_ romantic gesture, like presenting Asami with the banana mango smoothie she had kept in a cooler bag in her duffel, that she totally did _not_ wake up a half an hour earlier than usual to make? Korra glanced at the caller ID.

_Catfish Mako._

“Hello?”

“Hey, what are you up to?” Mako’s voice was clear, yet there was a lot of background noise, and it sounded like he was in a wind tunnel.

“I was just about to step on a romantic landmine, but if I have to rescue you from the tornado it sounds like you’re trapped in, I’ll come running.”

Mako sighed, and Korra could feel his frown. She laughed.

“I’m driving,” he said, ignoring her. “I had an assignment out of town, so I’m actually near you. Do you have time to get lunch? Are you even allowed off the compound?”

Korra rolled her eyes. “Yes Mako, we can leave the compound, we can’t elope though, just so you know.”

“One glance and they’d know you’d kidnapped me and I was being forced to marry you as part of your polygamous religious cult.”

Korra grinned. “Yes, as you know joining the Red Lotus has always been a part of my life’s goals.”

She looked back at Asami’s door, deciding that she could wait another day before pushing her own agenda. Besides, talking to Mako would probably be good for her, even if they ended up arguing. She turned and started walking to the front gate of the compound.

* * *

Mako took a seat at an open booth as Korra slid into the bench across from him. He’d chosen a nearby diner, known mostly for their greasy, but hamburgers. A waitress came by, and before they even opened up their menus, Korra ordered a Pepsi and Mako ordered a coffee, which he drank black, just like a grown up.

“So what’s new?” he asked as he placed his mug back on the table.

Korra dropped the straw from her lips, pushing the cup away from her. She wondered where to start.

“Well, we won our last game,” she said, “ _barely_.” She punctuated the last word with wide eyes.

Two cheeseburgers magically appeared and the waitress slid one in front of each of them.

Mako nodded. “I saw the game on TV. You played great.” He paused for a second before asking, “And what about everything else? Off the court?”

Korra looked back up at Mako, mouth full of cheeseburger. “Haph, fuannay yous shoood ashgh.”

Mako grimaced, holding up a palm. “Swallow first, Princess Diaries.”

Korra eyed him as she chewed, swallowing her bite with a big gulp. “Can I continue now, master?” she asked with a jeer.

Mako arched a sharkbrow in response.

“I assuming you’re talking about Asami,” Korra said, to which Mako arched the same sharkbrow once more. “Well, I told her how I felt, and she ignored me for a bit, oh! And we kissed, then we weren’t talking again, then we won the game,” Korra rambled.

Mako’s lips just kept pressing closer and closer together until they almost disappeared. “You kissed?”

Korra made a face. “More or less, I got pretty impulsive, and kissed her when we were in bed together.”

Mako’s face melted like a wax figurine in thrown into a volcano. “What?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning. “Back up, start from the beginning. I told you to tell her how you felt. How did that progress to you two in bed together and kissing?”

So Korra recounted the events since their midnight conversation, though she conveniently left out the interventions by _The Coaches Three_ and Eska.

“So you told her you want to be friends,” Mako said incredulity and confusion. “That’s it?”

Korra shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did. Though I did leave the door open if she wants to,” she waggled her fingers, “you know, be more.”

“What happens if she doesn’t want to be in a relationship with you?” he said gently, like his words were a blowtorch and Korra were dry grass.

Korra let out her breath. “Then that’s all there is,” she said evenly. “I can wait, Mako, and even if we’ve reached the pinnacle of our relationship, then that’s what it is.”

Mako smiled, and Korra could feel the warmth from it. His lips together, the corners of his eyes gently creasing. This was the best Mako smile; this was the one that meant he was content, and understanding, and not constipated. He nodded slowly.

“So _que sera sera_ ,” he said.

“What? Korra blinked. “Quesadilla?”

Mako waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind. I just never thought I’d see the day where you learned patience.”

“Yeah well, what’s that saying? If you love something, you have to let it go? And I resent that. I am a very patient being.”

“The only patient you ever knew was that time you ended up in the hospital. We’re talking about you, the girl that wrote a haphazard Valentine’s note in November when we were twelve, the girl who burned her lips on hot cocoa because she couldn’t wait for it to be poured into a cup, the girl who gets mad at streaming videos because it ‘takes too long.’” Mako sipped his cooling coffee. “I’d say you’ve done a lot of growing up.”

“Thanks Mako,” Korra said as she met his eyes. The mushy atmosphere was starting to make her really uncomfortable, so she changed the subject. “So what’s the assignment?”

His hazel eyes lit up with excitement; Mako really did like his job as a detective. “I’m working on a kidnapping case right now. The girl might’ve been spotted nearby.”

Korra oohed impressively. “Shouldn’t you have a partner? Like Elliot and Olivia? Or am I your Olivia? Oh my god, let’s go check out leads!”

“Calm down,” Mako said holding out his hands, “I dropped my partner off at another restaurant; he’s got family here. Although you’d be a better partner than Wu,” he sighed. “He’s ridiculously clingy. And always getting hurt.”

Korra cocked her head. “Them’s the breaks, pardner. Guess that’s what you get for being such a hotshot detective.”

Mako grunted and crossed his arms. “Assholes.”

Korra grinned. Huffy Mako was the best.

Mako had made detective at only twenty-three. Unheard of in, well, ever. Being promoted ahead of everyone else, particularly old, grumpy hasbeens made for a lot of tension, and so he’d been getting a lot of bitch work lately. Though Korra had a very sneaky suspicion Mako’s promotion had something to do with him sleeping with the 911 operator,d who, conveniently, was also the police chief’s sister. He must’ve been very good for her to put in such a good word for him.

The rest of lunch passed freely, as Mako updated Korra with Bolin’s current life, and she shared the last few seconds of the from the previous game.

* * *

Korra shut the door and leaned over to wave goodbye to Mako. “Thanks for lunch!”

He leaned over the gear shift, meeting her gaze.

“Just don’t get hurt, okay?” he said like the big brother he was.

Korra gave him a melancholy smile. “That’s the risk though, isn’t it?” 

* * *

Korra had walked with the intention of going back to her place, but instead Korra found herself in front of Asami’s dorm once more, the mango smoothie in her bag now long past melted.

_Just don’t get hurt._

Korra shook her head. Getting hurt wasn’t even a question. Asami’s past had been marred by far more hurt than Korra had ever known in her life, and she was still standing. Korra could survive getting hurt by a girl, even if it happened to be the most beautiful one she’d ever get the fortune of knowing.

Korra could be plain, safe and downright boring if she chose to. She could ignore her feelings, and Asami’s for that matter, and live their lives in radio silence. Live the safe, normal life that she could probably have.

But she was Korra, and she had passion and love and a desire to give that to someone, to share it with them. And if the tightrope she was walking happened to snap while she was traversing it, well then fuck it all and she’d fall into the abyss knowing she’d given whatever she had.

And so she found herself rapping on the door twice, singing a stupid ass song from a hella good movie. _Fuck it. Bulldoze past the weird._

 _“Do you wanna build a snowman?_  
_Come on let’s go and play--”_

Footsteps were padding towards the door, and Korra kept singing.

 _“I never see you anymore,_  
_come out the do--”_

The door swung open.

“-- _doooohhhhfuck_!”

Instead of being greeted with the beautiful sight of Asami, P’Li was holding the door, giving Korra the most murderous look she’d seen yet.

“Hi,” Korra tried as an opening salvo.

“You suck at singing.”

“Uh, hah, yep, my bad. Is Asami here?” Korra said sheepishly, rubbing her arm.

P’li turned and yelled into the dorm. “Asami! I’m going out now.” She grabbed a jacket off the back of the door. “And Korra is here!” P’li walked out of the dorm, pushed Korra in, and shut the door.

The door slammed behind her and Korra jumped in her shoes. She blew out a breath, hoping that she was blowing out the unease and worry sitting in her chest.

A figure rose from the couch and there stood Asami, dressed in a loose tank top and old gym shorts. Her face devoid of makeup, hair tied up in a messy bun, and small bags under her eyes. Korra doubted there was another time where she found Asami more beautiful.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” Asami returned, and though silence followed, it was clear she was waiting for an explanation for Korra’s sudden appearance.

“Hey, uh,” Korra stuttered, as she fumbled around in her duffel bag. She pulled the tumblr out, dripping with condensation. “I made you a banana mango smoothie, but I, uh, got distracted, and it got kind of melted and warm, but I figured I’d stop by anyway?” Korra shrugged and water dripped off the bottle.

A beat passed before Asami stepped aside and nodded toward the couch. Korra felt the bubble of tension appear between them, but she strode forward, past Asami, and popped it. She walked through the foyer, kicking off her shoes, and plopped herself on the sofa.

Asami had some fancy schematic on her laptop, with the DIY Network playing in the background. Korra grabbed the remote and flipped it to ESPN, catching up on the latest scores. She was halfway through a recap by Steven A. Smith before she realized Asami hadn’t sat down. Korra craned her head backwards on the couch, finding Asami still standing near the kitchen with her arms crossed.

“What are you doing?” Korra asked the upside-down Asami. “Come on, come sit down.” Korra patted the spot next to her.

Asami didn’t say anything, staring at Korra from above, before seemingly winning the war within herself, and walking towards the couch.

Korra righted herself, blinking a little as the blood drained out of her face and left her light-headed. Asami sat down an arm’s reach away.

“So what’s new?” Korra tried. She was really terrible at small talk.

Asami eyed her with a look that clearly said, “ _Are you fucking kidding me?_ ”

Korra puffed her cheeks, blowing out a breath. Polite conversation was not going to work. So Korra changed tactics.

“C’mon _Mimi_ ,” she cooed, and Asami’s irritation immediately mixed with disbelief. Korra had struck gold. “ _Miiiiimiiii_ ," she tried again, thrilled that her horribly made up nickname had cracked Asami’s icy walls.

“What the hell kind of nickname is that?” Asami asked, and a little spark of delight burned in Korra, because Asami had said the question without anger or ire, but mock indignation. _The real Asami Sato has just stood up._

“Uh, well,” Korra laughed, “Your name has way too many syllables, and I just thought it’d be hilarious.”

Asami rolled her eyes, but her crossed arms unfolded.

“Not to mention,” Korra continued, “it means ‘ear’ in Japanese, and I, uh, kinda like it when you push your hair back behind your ear.”

Asami reactively pushed a lock of hair behind said ear and blushed, and Korra gave herself kudos for that one.

“I _am_ Japanese, you know,” Asami said with a lift of her eyebrows.

“I know, but I’m not,” Korra shrugged, “so aren’t you at least impressed that I know that?”

“I think I’d be more impressed if you recited poetry,” Asami said matter-of-factly.

“I can do that,” Korra said.

Asami crossed her arms and fixed her with a dubious look. “Badly written haiku and stuff in children’s books don’t count.”

“Fine.” Korra crossed her legs on the couch and scooted closer to Asami. “But on one condition.”

Asami flinched as Korra took away some of the spatial buffer between them. “What?” she said, eyeing Korra warily.

“You tell me what you think my name reminds you of in Japanese.”

Asami’s eyes immediately softened, and without hesitating, she said, “ _Kokoro_.”

“What does that mean?” Korra asked, intrigued.

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

Korra narrowed her eyes, hoping that her pouty lip and miffed face were adorable enough to sway Asami’s mind. They weren’t.

“Fine,” Korra said giving up, “Promise to tell me one day, and I promise I won’t Google it.”

“I can do that,” Asami said, echoing Korra’s earlier words. “Now your end of the deal.”

“Okay, by the way, if Coach Su ever has the urge to recite _haiku_ to you, run away. Fast.”

Asami merely arched an eyebrow, waiting for Korra to continue.

Korra cocked her head, reciting the first snippet that came to mind.

“ _While I am I, and you are you,_  
_So long as the world contains us both,_  
_Me the loving and you the loved,_  
_While the one eludes, must the other pursue._ ”

Korra lowered her eyes; she hadn’t meant to expose so much of herself in a single verse. There weren’t very many times where she left herself emotionally vulnerable like this.

“Wow,” Asami said, as gave into a casual smile. “I really thought you were lying. I didn’t think you actually read poetry.”

“It’s an easy way to distract myself when basketball’s too stressful. It’s impossible to worry about your field goal percentage when you’re trying to figure out the author’s intentions in ye olde English.”

“I do that with cars,” Asami said offhandedly.

“I noticed,” Korra said, as she smiled with her eyes. “You wanna know something?”

Asami nodded.

“The author actually wrote, ‘loth,’ not ‘loved,’ in the poem.”

“So why did you--”

“Because I don’t _loath_ you,” Korra said with a shake of her head, averting her gaze. Her heart had somehow lodged in her throat, yet her stomach had managed to bottom out.

Korra finally found the courage to meet Asami’s eyes, full of hesitation and doubt. Korra smiled, hoping that her eyes made plain the unfailing love and certainty she felt. She held her hand out, hovering in the neutral zone between them.

Asami eyed the hand, pausing for two beats before bringing her own out to match Korra’s. But she stopped before making contact, hovering an inch above, afraid to touch. So Korra came up to meet Asami.

Korra traced her fingers under Asami’s palm, the tips of her calloused fingers running over the worn pads in Asami’s hand. Her fingers ran slowly up to tips, just tickling the skin, before aligning her fingers in the spaces between Asami’s. Korra pressed their palms together, flushing her fingers all the way through and curling her fingers around. Her blue eyes watched as Asami’s tense fingers finally relaxed and curled around her own hand, and she marveled at how well Asami’s hand fit into hers.

Korra smiled at the contrast in their skin tones, ivory against mocha, just a whole milk chilling next to a chocolate one in a grocery aisle. Korra could feel a heartbeat in the fingertips against the back of Asami’s hand, and she wondered if it was hers, or Asami’s, or maybe their hearts were beating at the same time.

She looked into Asami’s eyes, finding that they had blown wide, reducing the green to a thin line. Using their interlocked hands to pull her closer, Korra pressed in, yet still leaving enough space for Asami to change her mind.

Asami’s free hand hand reached up to Korra's cheek, tracing her thumb over caramel skin. Korra’s eyes fluttered closed.

Asami mumbled out words that were barely heard.

“ _A mind at peace with all below,_  
_A heart whose love is innocent._ ”

Korra brought her hand up to hold Asami’s, blue eyes opening to meet green ones.

“Lord Byron,” Korra whispered.

Asami’s gaze dropped to her lips, and Korra ran her tongue over them. Asami paused, her head tilting to the side. Her eyes slid out of focus for a second, before honing in on Korra.

Anxiety, expectation, want, panic and excitement all cycled through Korra, flipping through each one faster than a dragonbird’s wings. It felt like all her senses were on fire, hyperstimulated to the point of completely short circuiting. Korra’s eyes shut, anticipating the scant, yet familiar feeling of Asami’s lips. But they never came.

Asami dropped the hand and looked away. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Korra exhaled, releasing the tension and her disappointment. It was still too soon. The last thing she wanted was for Asami to force herself into being with her.

Asami pulled her knees into her chest, resting her chin on her arms. In an instant the tender ambience had evaporated, congealing into a messy, murky pile of dismay.

“It’s okay,” Korra said gently, wondering if there’d be a day when the statement would no longer be true. Korra blew out another breath, this one sounding more like a dramatic sigh. If basketball didn’t pan out after college, Korra could definitely have a career adjusting insurance claims, since she was so good at denial. Maybe she and Asami could work in adjacent cubicles, denying claims and denying each other.

Asami looked so small and fragile, curled in on herself. “Why would you ever want someone so broken? Why don’t you want someone whole?”

Korra smiled, and it was probably too bold for the moment, but she pulled Asami into a hug and wrapped her arms around her. Korra hoped her arms were made of something strong enough to hold Asami up as her cheek came to rest on black, wavy hair.

“Why would you want to be whole alone?” Korra said lightly. “Aren’t we just meant to be misshapen halves until we find the piece that complements us?”

She released the hug, giving Asami her personal space back. The other girl leaned back, putting her focus back on the television. Korra sat quietly for a few moments, but she broke the silence before the strained atmosphere had a chance to settle.

“You know, a wise man once said, ‘Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.’”

“Dr. Suess?” Asami said knowingly.

“The wisest of all mortals.”

“So you’re saying my answers are supposed to be easy?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe we’re both making this more convoluted than it really is.”

Asami hummed. “Maybe so.”

* * *

The day before their semi final game against the Democratic Union of the Water Tribes, Coach Lin called a team meeting after practice.

“Everyone have a seat,” Coach Lin motioned towards the bleachers. “I want to go over a couple of things before the game tomorrow.” There was a shuffle as everyone found a place on the bleachers, Korra sitting next to Asami, but leaving just enough distance between them to be--well, just far enough away.

“With the game just a day away, I’m going to announce our team captain. We didn’t have plans to choose a team captain, but after the last game, we’ve decided that someone has shown themselves to be deserving.” Coach Lin looked over towards her assistant coaches before continuing. She drew in a deep breath, making the moment a lot more dramatic than it needed to be.

“The other coaches and I have decided that Korra has demonstrated to us the leadership for this position.”

 _Wow_.

Korra looked down, the tips of her ears burning. She’d been team captain on almost all of the teams she’d played on; it was expected. She’d been far and away the best player on every team. But this time it struck a chord with her. It was the first time she truly felt like she deserved it.

A small round of applause sounded around her. Her eyes met Coach Lin’s, who gave her just the smallest nod of approval and a smile. Asami placed a hand on her shoulder, a wide smile on her face. A swooping sensation rushed low in her stomach.

“ _What_?! Why is _SHE_ captain?!” Kuvira exploded, face contorted in rage. The swooping feeling vanished.

“I don’t have to explain myself, least of all to a player. I told you from the beginning, the coaches would make all the decisions,” Coach Lin told her tartly.

“But I’m the best player on the team! I’ve scored more points than Korra, and twice as many points as the rest of the team!” Kuvira rose to her feet, fists clenched.

“When will you learn that being the best player on the team has little to do with scoring the most points?” Suyin stepped in, shaking her head. The rest of the team looked distinctly uncomfortable, shuffling their feet or looking at the roof.

“Korra has been one of the first players in the gym, one of the last out. She’s here late at night watching film, she stays after practice to do skill work with other players. You show up for practice only concerned with how well you’re doing,” Coach Kya said, now getting involved. Korra’s body felt like it was on fire. The coaches had known all along about the extra time she’d devoted. It was discomfitting and relieving at the same time.

“Don’t think we don’t know that you check your stats after every game and practice,” Coach Lin scoffed.

Kuvira was not to be deterred. “Korra isn’t the best player on this team! She afraid to even play me!”

Korra clenched a fist. She ground her teeth, growling under her breath. Kuvira was pushing the mercury on her thermometer to near bursting. Korra’s temper had been wearing thin, what with dealing with Asami, and disappointment, and whatever else the fuck she was feeling. She was near explosion.

And Kuvira just would not drop it. She was still arguing with the coaches.

_Like, why are you so obsessed with me?_

“That’s not for you to determ--” Coach Lin began.

But Korra’s self control slipped. “I’ll do it,” she snarled as she stood up. “I’ll play you.”

_Fuck, Korra. You and your big mouth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So good/bad news. Next week will be the final chapter! Which is good, because putting my favorite characters through emotional torture is really wearing me out. No one told me when I got on this ride how time consuming it is, but at least it's been a fun ride. I really hope it lives up to your expectations.
> 
> This chapter was a fair bit heavier than the others, but that's because Korra's life has been slowly leaking fun. 
> 
> And no, I shall not be addressing Iroh II any further. That's Asami's bidness, not Korra's, but you can consider that pizza box CLOSED.


	10. Finale: KA vs. KZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where there's finally closure over the gaping wound in Korra's heart.

The gym had gone deathly silent. All eyes were on Korra, some astonished, some curious, and one pair that looked like she’d just been given the plans to complete world domination.

“I’ll play Kuvira,” Korra repeated, ignoring Kuvira’s smirk.

“No, I don’t want--” Coach Lin started to say, but Korra walked over, interrupting once more.

“Please Coach. It’s okay. I need to do this. It’s for the best of the team, and for me. She’ll never let this go.”

The head coach considered her words, before nodding. “Fine.” Lin took a seat on the bleachers.

Korra turned to Kuvira. “I’ll challenge you, on one condition.”

Kuvira’s smirk only widened, and she crossed her arms. “Whatever you want. No matter what rules you make, you’ll never beat me,” she said, addressing Korra with the same manner of Hitler addressing his troops.

“We play two on two, not one on one.”

Kuvira scoffed. “Typical Korra. Always weak. Can’t do anything on your own. I, on the other hand, am not so inept. I have always been the best, and I shall continue to be the best, no matter what you do. No, you can’t hide behind someone else. You’re too afraid to show everyone how much better I am than you.”

Korra narrowed her eyes. Kuvira had to stop watching action thriller movies; she was monologuing like an evil villain prior to unleashing his master plan. Although she did have all the correct qualities: outstanding villain voice, maniacal laugh, distinctive eyebrows, and she was bat shit crazy.

Korra countered Kuvira’s speech. ”I can take you down myself, I know that for sure. I don’t have to prove it to anyone here. But you still don’t get it. We don’t win championships by ourselves. This is a team sport, and no matter how good you or your teammate is, you don't know how to play together, and you’ll never win.”

“Nobody on this team is good enough to play with me.”

“So you say, but I thought you were the best. Shouldn’t you be able to win with anybody?” Korra said it with as much sass as she could muster, which, quite frankly, was enough to put Beyonce to the left, to the left.

Kuvira scowled. Korra hit a nerve. Although it really wasn’t that hard. All you had to do was challenge Kuvira’s massive ego and she’d respond like an over sensitive bodybuilder on steroids. They both had problems with penis size.

“Fine. Zhu Li, with me.” Kuvira flicked a thumb at the other girl, then turned back to Korra. “Just to prove how stupid this is, and how weak you are, I will not only beat you, I’ll beat you with the weakest person here.”

“Hey!” Zhu Li said, clearly offended.

“Shut up. You know that if we got sorted here, you’d be in Hufflepuff.”

Zhu Li frowned, but didn’t say anything further. “Ravenclaw, asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

“So who gets the dubious honor of teaming with you?” Kuvira scowled.

Korra set her jaw, refusing to look anywhere else except straight ahead. She quickly ran through her possible choices. The no brainer was Asami, except with all their recent weirdness, Korra wasn’t so sure it was such a no brainer anymore. P’li was too stationary and Eska never got anywhere near the paint. Ginger or Ming Hua would be the next best; they were versatile enough to keep up with Kuvira and work with Korra.

Korra was just still debating between Ginger and Ming Hua when she felt movement beside her. She smelled the familiar citrus and amber and had to consciously hold in her sigh of relief.

Asami had moved to stand next to Korra, matching Kuvira glare for glare.

Korra instantly felt lighter. Asami was at her side again, and despite their differences off court, on court, they were nearly impossible to beat. Korra’s mood lifted. The irritation and annoyance at Kuvira had leaked away, and at the moment she was simply happy to have her Scottie back. Or was it Michael? Whatever they were, the Dynamic Duo, Batman and Robin, Jack and Rose, Bisexual Basketball Badasses. Whatever they were, they were back in action.

“So the little Miss Rich Girl is going to be your second,” Kuvira sneered. “I should've known. You always pick the one with daddy issues.”

Korra felt Asami stiffen.

“Shut up and let’s go Kuvira. Your mouth won’t save you on the court.” Heads all turned in Korra’s direction, believing she uttered the challenge, but it was Asami who was striding forward, green eyes narrowed. Kuvira shrugged, stepping into the circle.

“First to eleven points wins, and you must win by at least two points,” Suyin explained. “Anything goes,” she said with a cautionary look between the girls. She held the ball aloft between them, whistle between her lips. She ball flipped into the air, and there was an immediate throng of black hair and arms everywhere. Kuvira threw her shoulder into Asami, tipping the ball to Zhu Li.

“Here!” Kuvira barked, and Zhu Li obediently passed. One play in and already Kuvira was playing rough.

Korra stood in front of her, arms spread. They’d have to be careful. Kuvira dribbled, bouncing the ball high, deciding which plan of attack to use. She bounded left, Korra sticking to her like flypaper. Kuvira pivoted, dropping her hip towards the basket, bumping Korra with her rear. Korra stood firm, unwilling to give Kuvira the ground she wanted. So Kuvira took it for herself. She stepped on Korra’s foot, making it impossible for the other girl to follow, dribbling around and putting the ball up for an easy basket.

“That’s the way it’s going to be, huh,” Korra growled as she retrieved the ball. Kuvira jogged backwards, giving a smug look as she shrugged her shoulders. Korra frowned. She’d show Kuvira how to play dirty, with her stupid tricks and her cheating ways.

“Hey,” Asami said. “I saw what she did, and we’re not gonna play that way.”

“Why?! She’s a cheater, she deserves to get it back.”

“You’re better than her without playing dirty. Just remember what we’ve worked on. Be firm when you have to, flow when you have to.”

“Fine,” Korra grumbled. “And hey,” she added. Asami turned back to her.

“Thanks.” Korra rubbed her arm. Damn nervous habit. “For backing me up. I wouldn’t have made team captain without you, you know.”

Asami nodded. “I’ve got your back. But let’s worry about that later, because we have to deal with this bitch that is trippin’.”

Korra grinned as she followed a dribbling Asami down the court.

“You take her.” Kuvira indicated for Zhu Li to guard Asami. Asami dribbled across half court, and Korra felt sorry for the other girl to have to go through the abuse. Asami charged in, Zhu Li almost panicking to keep up. In two more strides she’d have the basket, but just as she expected, Kuvira had abandoned Korra to guard her. Asami kept the ball a little longer, keeping up the ruse, giving time for Korra to get back -- then she zinged the ball right into Korra’s hands, who stepped up and nailed the shot.

“Nice one,” Korra slapped a high five.

Kuvira dribbled the ball, permanent scowl on her face. She eyed Asami up and down as the taller girl moved to guard her, dribbling casually. Korra floated near Zhu Li, a few feet away from the corner. Kuvira broke left again, then crossed over right, dropping a shoulder into Asami’s chest as she plowed into her defender. Korra quickly moved in front, taking away a clear shot at the basket, but Kuvira wasn’t deterred. She dropped her shoulder again and Korra went flying backwards.

“Hey!” Asami yelled angrily. “What the hell was that?” A clicking of tongues and shake of heads on the sidelines indicated that not everyone agreed with Kuvira’s “style.”

“That’s real basketball,” Kuvira sneered. “Maybe where you come from everyone curtsies and bows whenever they play, but not here.” She strutted back to the other side of the court.

“That’s bush league and you know it,” Asami scowled.

“Are you alright?” she asked, kneeling over Korra, who was just beginning to sit up.

“I’m fine. Did she score?”

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s 2-1 now. She’s playing hardcore street ball here.”

“I figured as much.”

“But we have an advantage,” Asami said quietly.

“How so?”

“She won’t pass to Zhu Li. She’s going to do everything herself. You don’t have to guard her at all.” Korra was struck by this new information. Could Kuvira really be so high minded?

Korra dribbled down court, Asami running in front of her. Kuvira hung back, just near the free throw line, and Korra contemplated what to do. When Asami broke towards the corner, she made up her mind. She bounce passed to Asami then ran to the right. Asami snatched the ball as Zhu Li rushed at her, then threw a strong overhead pass to Korra, who caught the ball as Kuvira closed in on her. One quick pump fake and a bounce pass to a streaking Asami later, and they evened the score when the taller girl floated in a lay up right behind Kuvira.

Kuvira snatched the ball angrily from Zhu Li, not even bothering to let the other girl inbound it for her. She bounced the ball a little more forcefully as she came down the court, and Korra was sure the echoes seemed louder. Asami moved in front of Kuvira once more. Korra stood near the basket, casting a worried look towards Zhu Li. Would she really not pass to her? Could she just abandon her man?

Asami did her best to keep up with Kuvira, but she was too strong. She bumped Asami to the outside, spinning inwards, opening her path to the basket. Korra came from the left, hoping Asami’s instincts were right, because if they weren’t, Zhu Li was wide open. Outstretching her hand, she reached for the ball as her opponent rose for the basket. If Kuvira wanted to pass, it would be now. But the moment came and went, Kuvira still had the ball, and Korra was right there, palm on the ball. She used all her might to push it out of Kuvira’s hands.

Asami scooped the ball up, dribbling quickly to the other side of the court as Zhu Li ran to keep up. Korra stood still, and so did time. Asami glided gracefully across the floor and she swore Chariots of Fire started to play. Asami could’ve been bounding in a field of daisies or skating on an ice rink, it would’ve all been the same. So lovely. As if in slow motion, little lights of glitter trailing after her, Asami floated up and towards the basket, depositing the ball through the white netting.

“Hey, defense,” Asami said as she backhanded her lightly, and Korra came out of her semi-daydream. Asami had already retreated back to their side of the court.

 _Whoopsie_.

They were up 3-2 now, and if Korra could just keep her head on straight, they’d be fine.

“Lucky shot. You can’t guard me alone; you’re not good enough,” Kuvira jeered, egging Korra on. Korra stepped closer to Kuvira, who was dribbling just outside the three point line.

“Korra…”

Asami’s voice had a warning tone, but Korra reassured her with a slight nod of the head.

“Bring it on,” Korra said nonplussed, accepting Kuvira’s challenge.

Kuvira smirked as Korra settled into a defensive position. Kuvira’s muscular shoulders dropped slightly, dribbling the ball across her body left and right. Korra jabbed a hand out to interfere, and Kuvira whirled around, stepping back.

“Don’t kid yourself,” she taunted Korra. She faked right, which Korra quickly followed, before regaining her position. Again, she feigned right, and something about this felt familiar. But before the memory became whole, Kuvira broke left, and Korra followed. She was quick enough to stay square and not have to cross over her feet, but her momentum was clearly going to throw her off center if she had to change directions.

Which Kuvira did, swiveling sharply and pushing up through Korra’s outstretched arms. The ball rebounded off the backboard and through the hoop. Kuvira banged into her shoulder as Korra scooped up the ball, the victor in their battle clear. One battle, Korra reminded herself, does not make up the war. One battle could be lost without losing the war.

“I told you, you’re weak.” Kuvira taunted, coming up to defend. Korra’s brow furrowed. They needed to put points up quicker. Kuvira was physical, and fairly abusive, and if they carried on this way, either Korra or Asami would end up hurt. Her eyes flickered over to her partner.

Zhu Li was giving her quite a bit of room. Asami would be able to do whatever she wanted, even without the height advantage. An eyebrow twitched skyward, and the unspoken message was clear.

Korra cut right, away from Asami’s position, enticing Kuvira to follow. Asami too moved right, and Zhu Li followed, completing the counterclockwise rotation. Asami got to the top of the key a few moments before Zhu Li, where a pass met her right on time. In one swift motion, she collected the ball, stepped up and drained a three (which was technically a two in the current scorekeeping format).

“Woo hoo!” Korra whooped. She jogged back over the center line, shooting Kuvira a teasing face. Now they were ahead 5-3. Asami totally nailed that shot. Her girlfriend was amazing! Korra froze.

Girl... _who is a friend_. You know, to hang out with and stuff.

“Nice pass,” Asami slapped her gently on the butt as she ran past her. That wasn’t anything new; baseball players did it all the time, and Asami had done it before, but Korra’s imagination was running on turbo, and all sorts of implications flew about her brain.

“Uh huh,” Korra said nervously. _Come on Korra, make like frozen juice and concentrate!_

Korra wasn’t sure if it were possible, but Kuvira’s eyebrows looked even more alarming now. She spared a glance for Zhu Li, feeling sorry for her as she stood uselessly to the side. If Kuvira had any faith in her teammates, if she had taken the time to learn about any other their skills, she’d have known that she could’ve fed the ball to Zhu Li to tie the score up right now. But she didn’t. And she wouldn’t, Korra knew, because Kuvira believed that she would have to win this all alone.

Kuvira lunged forward, feigning an attack, and Korra shuffled backwards, giving room, but not enough to shoot. Asami floated towards the basket, distancing herself from Zhu Li. Kuvira dribbled right, then spun left. Korra was just a half step too slow, and Kuvira wheeled around, moving towards the basket. Without the ball.

Because Asami had stuck a hand out, and Kuvira too preoccupied with scoring, hadn’t noticed that she’d been stripped of the ball. Kuvira got pickpocketed like a tourist on the subway.

Korra zoomed down the court sprinting, absolutely no one in between her and the basket. Asami ran to keep up, dribbling quickly as Kuvira closed in. Korra put her left hand up and Asami lofted a pass high in the air. Korra leaped to grab it and slammed it in through the hoop.

A scream of cheers erupted from the sidelines as their teammates applauded the great play. It was rare enough to see a dunk in women’s basketball, but an alley-oop? Absolutely unreal.

“Halfway! Five minute break!” Suyin shouted from the side. Kuvira and Zhu Li went to the sideline filled with their teammates, but Korra walked to the opposite end of the gym, and Asami followed.

They were up 6-3, all thanks to their flawless teamwork.

Asami and Korra moved so well together. Korra wasn’t even trying. Asami was just where she expected her. Korra moved to where she thought Asami would pass the ball. They were _perfect_ for each other--

Korra sat on the bleachers, looking off to the side. Her body had suddenly become very heavy, the proximity of Asami and being unable to get any closer was turmoil inside.

  
Avoiding the eyes that had left her heart in pieces, she sat there, contemplating her place in the universe, which was something Korra never did, and so her head was starting to hurt more than her heart, but that was probably better at the moment.

Maybe a small part of her wanted to hang on, hoping that maybe Asami would be ready, but her head screamed she was an idiot.

“Korra?”

Korra turned towards Asami, answering with a cock of her head.

“I know I’ve been acting really fucked up lately, and just an asshole in general. I’ve been treating you like shit, but it’s because I’ve been so messed up inside.”

“It’s okay, Asami. I get it.”

“Why are you so fucking understanding? I was a bitch to you. Shouldn’t you hate me?”

Korra laughed, both at the slew of cuss words from the usual proper Lady Asami, as well as how much the tables had turned. “Well, I was a complete bitch to you when we first met. So I guess we’re even?”

“Not yet.”

Korra raised an eyebrow.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Asami said, eyes a little hesitant, “ _This is me swallowing my pride, standing in front of you saying I’m sorry for that night--_ ”

Korra grinned, picking up on Asami’s cue immediately, “ _And I go back to July all the time._ ”

She pulled Asami into a hug, wrapping her arms around the other girl completely. This was good. This was right. Korra held the hug, not worrying about the duration at all. She finally let go, immediately looking into Asami’s eyes.

“Korra, I--” Asami started.

“Time in!” Suyin yelled, just after blowing her whistle. Asami let go, walking away.

“Wait,” Korra called out. Asami shook her head.

“We’ll talk after the game, okay? We’re okay, I promise.”

Korra blinked and nodded. A flurry emotions swirled within her. Relief, for one, glad that she and Asami were back to being open and honest with each other. Curiosity another, as she wondered what information was being withheld, and that gave way to dread, as Korra feared that Asami might say something that would break her heart (again).

She shook her head. Come on, have some faith. Asami said they were okay. Whatever happens, you said it’d be fine, as long as you were still friends. You got what you wanted.

Korra swallowed. But was it so bad to hope for more?

Kuvira won the tip off again, unsurprisingly throwing an elbow and nearly breaking Asami’s nose. Korra hustled in front of her, ready to defend.

Kuvira didn’t hold back her scoff as she taunted Korra. “Here’s where I obliterate you,” she smirked, and Korra swore her dirty green eyes glinted.

“Could you please stop talking like a demonic bad guy? It’s getting old.”

Kuvira scowled and drove forward, forcing Korra inside the arc. Kuvira stepped back, having created room for herself, and drained a three (two, whatever).

Korra frowned as she collected the ball. Arrogant people annoyed the shit out of her, but arrogant people who could back their play irritated her even more. She looked at Asami, who was making a pushing motion. Korra closed her eyes and released her breath. Asami was right: let it go.

Korra caught the ball and dribbled down court. She noticed Zhu Li standing off to the side. She could be doing more to defend Korra and Asami, but it was clear she was going to put as little effort into helping Kuvira as possible, not that Korra could blame her.

Nonetheless, as Zhu Li came to guard Korra, she told her, “Don’t stop playing. You’ve got more integrity than that. Play for the team.”

Zhu Li’s eyes widened, but her stance firmed up and her arms spread out into a better defensive position.

Korra passed to Asami, who began to weave her magic like an old Peruvian lady on a loom. She dribbled over the arc, near Kuvira, then spun neatly out of the way, leaving a befuddled Kuvira in her wake. Upset at being duped, Kuvira hustled to keep up, but she wasn’t going to be able to catch up to Asami, at least not without cheating, which she did.

Kuvira swung an arm out, catching Asami cleanly on the wrist. Asami fell to the ground clutching her arm, but Kuvira had already scooped up the ball and was streaking down court. Korra knelt next to Asami, not caring that she’d just given away a basket.

“Let me see,” she urged Asami, trying to take a better look at the injury.

“I’m fine Korra,” Asami reassured her, and she really did look okay. Nothing looked swollen or out of place, though Korra did notice Asami flinch when she pressed a spot on her forearm.

“I’m fine,” Asami repeated, “It’ll probably just bruise later.”

Satisfied Asami was okay, Korra helped her to her feet, then immediately strode over to Kuvira. Korra shoved her roughly.

“You knock that shit off or I’ll knock you into next week,” she snarled.

Kuvira appeared nonplussed. “I’m not scared of you, you Water Tribe wannabe. You can’t beat me on court, and you most certainly can’t beat me up off of it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Korra growled, wishing she had longer hair, so that as she turned and stalked away dramatically, she could whip Kuvira in the face.

“Score’s tied,” Asami said nonchalantly. “I hope we survive to see the end of this game.”

Korra cast a curious glance at Asami, only to find the other girl smiling.

“Kuvira better hope she survives to see the end of this game. I might go Metta World Peace on her soon,” Korra grinned.

Except that would have to wait, because Kuvira quickly scored two baskets (one from an elbow to Korra’s gut and another from tripping up Asami). Team H&M (Hair and Muscle) found themselves down 8-6.

Korra knew they’d have to work quickly. Short passes, no more than two or three steps at a time. Any more and that would give Kuvira enough time to catch up to them and, well, be an asshole. Korra dribbled over the arc, and just as expected, Kuvira crashed hard. She passed to a moving Asami near the corner, diverting her opponent’s attention. As soon as the ball left her fingers, Korra ran in towards the paint. Her desire to move fast had less to do with scoring and more to do with keeping Kuvira away from Asami. Korra caught the ball mid stride, dribbled once and floated the ball off the backboard and through the netting for a lay up.

Kuvira’s jaw looked like it would crumble from the force she was clenching it with. She grabbed the ball and thrust Zhu Li, who caught it in the stomach. Kuvira snatched it out of Zhu Li’s grasp and dribbled down court. Korra came over the arc, ready to guard, and ready for whatever nonsense Kuvira might elbow her with.

Kuvira drove hard, trying to bump Korra off of her, but Korra would not be deterred. If Kuvira wanted to play rough, then Korra would hang with her. She stayed on Kuvira, hovering like an annoying teacher during an exam, and taking away her breathing room. Kuvira pushed her way in, until she was just under the basket. Korra and Kuvira were tangled like a mess of knots, and Korra could sense her opponent’s frustration.

Kuvira grunted and growled a few times, trying to find an open window through Korra’s arms. But there was none to be had. Kuvira snarled once more and thrust up, elbowing Korra in the cheek. But Korra’s defense was still enough to cause Kuvira to clang the ball off the rim.

Zhu Li picked the ball up and knocked down a jumper.

Korra glowered. She couldn’t be mad at Zhu Li; that was just the way the ball bounced sometimes. Literally. But the point stung just as much as the new bruise she was going to have on her face.

“Stay out of my way,” Kuvira told Zhu Li brusquely.

Korra flinched when she felt a hand on her face.

“Hey, it’s just me,” Asami said, “Just checking your cheek.” Her fingers prodded and poked, moving Korra’s jaw this way and that.

Korra’s cheeks reddened, and it wasn’t because of the blood pooling near her bruise. “I’m fine,” she said, putting a hand over Asami’s. “But we’d better go into superhero mode, because they’re still up nine to seven.”

Asami grinned. “I’ll be Iron Man if you’ll be Superman.”

“Why can't I be Iron Man?”

“Because you’ve got more defined muscles than me and I’m obviously the brilliant one.”

Korra opened her mouth to argue while fighting the blush threatening to overtake her whole face, but a whistle diverted her attention.

“If this were football, we’d have called a delay of game already!” Coach Su hollered at them.

Asami dropped the hands still on Korra’s face. They turned away from each other, Korra collecting the ball. She noticed the blush coloring Asami’s cheeks.

“Uh, here,” she said dumbly, inbounding the ball to Asami. She followed the sway of black hair down court. Asami looked back at her, and Korra understood the unspoken message. She moved to Asami’s left, setting the pick for Asami.

Korra absorbed the hit as Kuvira ran into her, rough hands trying to push her out of the way. But it was useless, because Asami already had a clear shot, dropping a shot from behind the three point line.

Korra hustled back, mentally tallying the score. They’d evened the score. Just a few more baskets.

Kuvira was coming down the court like Miley Cyrus on a wrecking ball. Korra moved in front of her, hips low and hands spread. But Kuvira ran through her with the force of skateboarders through police tape. Korra fell to the ground with a thump. She turned in time to see Asami intersect with Kuvira off.

Asami cut Kuvira off, disrupting the other girl’s rhythm enough to cause a missed shot. Asami jumped and caught the rebound after it clanged off the rim.

Korra got to her feet quickly and streaked back to her basket. Asami threw her the ball with an overhand pass, and Korra caught it just as she reached the top of the key. Two more strides and she put the ball through the netting, putting them up by a point and one more score away from taking the game.

Korra smirked as Kuvira stalked past her. She wasn’t one for trash talk, but this was too easy.

“Building a chimney?” she asked.

“What?” Kuvira said irritably.

“Well, I just thought with all the bricks you’re laying--”

Korra shrugged and ran back to her side of the court before Kuvira had a chance to process the thought.

“Hey fuck you!” Kuvira yelled as she took the inbound pass, the insult finally taking root in her brain.

Korra readied herself as Kuvira came down court. If they could just stop this score, they’d have a shot at winning. Kuvira dribbled in front of her, and despite being down a point, she hadn’t lost any arrogance. She was still strutting like she was LeBron against the Charlotte Bobcats/Hornets/the shittiest team ever.

Kuvira feigned to her left once before retreating.

Korra scanned her memory, trying to find where she’d seen that move before. If only her hard drive had more rpms, she’d be able to process it faster. She remembered that night, because Asami had jammed her finger earlier, and she’d been tapping the splinted digit on the desk, distracting Korra from the video all night. She’d smelled like sweat and body spray and Earth Kingdom food.

_That was it!_

Kuvira would fake to her left once, then drive left, spin right and pull back for a jumper. It was the one play Asami had made her pay attention to, in between Korra’s daydreams.

Korra refocused on Kuvira. Sure enough, she drove to her left, but Korra didn’t break hard with her. She kept her feet under her, sticking with Kuvira as she pivoted to the right.

By this time, anybody else would’ve been more twisted than an old school telephone cord, but Korra was right there, and as Kuvira stepped back for the shot, Korra closed in.

Korra could see it in slow motion. Kuvira pulled up for the shot, and Korra jumped, fingers outstretched. Just as the ball rolled off Kuvira’s fingers, Korra’s hand met the ball, pushing it off its intended trajectory.

Korra chased after the ball as Kuvira stood there, too stunned to move. Asami was already running down court, waiting for the ball. Korra scooped up the ball the tossed it to Asami, who spun around Zhu Li, and without fanfare, won the game with a simple lay up.

For a moment, Korra forgot they’d just won the game. The final basket hadn’t been nearly as exciting as their previous “big game.” In fact, if her teammates hadn’t suddenly crashed around her, she’d have forgotten about anything except Asami. The hands on her back and shouts in her ear reminded her of exactly why they’d been doing this whole thing in the first place.

Korra freed herself from everyone’s grasp and walked over to Kuvira. She was standing alone, her hair a mess, her arms folded over her body.

“What do you want? Come to gloat?”

“No,” Korra shook her head. “I just wanted to tell you, when it’s done right, playing with a teammate should make you better, not hold you back. If you’d actually played with Zhu Li, you might’ve beaten us.” She turned and walked away.

“I could still beat you.”

Korra stopped and looked over her shoulder. “No, you can’t.” She didn’t say it with malice, or arrogance, or irritability. It was just the truth. And judging by the lack of opposition, Kuvira knew it to be true as well.

“Hey Zhu Li,” Korra called to her other opponent, who was standing with her shoulders slumped. “You played a great game you know, and don’t listen to whatever Kuvira says. I know you belong on this team.”

Zhu Li gave her a rueful smile. “Thanks Korra. You played amazing.”

Korra was pulled away from Zhu Li as hands once again roughly grabbed her shoulders, completely surrounding her. Her teammates patted her on the back, shouting praises. She looked around, searching for the only person she wanted to see right now. Happy faces all around her, but not the one she needed. Then, two people parted, making an opening, and there she was.

Asami was running towards her, hair flowing behind her, smiling from ear to ear. She was making a beeline for Korra, who held her arms open. The moment seemed to slow down, everyone else fading to a blur. Korra had visions of all the romantic movies she had seen, as the girl runs into waiting arms and they embrace gently, reminding themselves of their love for each other.

But Asami was not slowing down. Speeding up actually, and Korra barely reacted. Asami collapsed into Korra’s arms, crushing her in a hug.

“Whooaaaaaa!!” she yelped, tumbling backwards onto the floor, and they fell in a heap. Asami pushed up slightly, her arms just outside of Korra’s shoulders. She was still wearing that elated smile. Korra’s heart thudded just a little harder and she smiled in return.

“You did it!” Asami screamed joyously, the moment completely overtaking any of her normal reserved Asami-ness.

“We did it,” Korra corrected, words almost catching in her throat as that familiar amber and citrus scent descended on her. A feeling of deja vu rushed over. She’d been in this position before. Maybe this was her place in the universe after all. Maybe everything was meant to come full circle.

“Hey, this is how we first met,” Korra said softly, blush rising in her cheeks, fingers reaching up to twirl in the lock of Asami’s hair that had fallen near her face. Realization dawned on Asami as her green eyes widened, some unspoken emotion behind them. Korra’s eyes lingered on Asami’s, darting back and forth between each orb, unsure of where she stood, and how appropriate it was to be staring in her eyes.

Then a magnet, something between them drew Asami closer to her and Korra could feel her closing in as time very nearly stood still. Eyes drifting shut, Korra tilted her chin ever so slightly, and was greeted with the sweetest lips she’d ever tasted. She reached a hand up, grasping Asami’s face gently, skin soft and supple beneath her touch.

Time is a funny thing. When you’re down three points and you have five seconds to get down the court to score, it’s gone in the blink of an eye. Or when you’re sitting in class, desperately waiting for the period to end, it takes forever and a day. But that moment when you achieve everything you’ve ever wanted, you can stay in it forever. Day, weeks, months from now, you can still relive the moment over and over, and for this reason it is infinite.

So when Asami kissed Korra, there was no understanding of time. It was one moment and all moments. They could’ve been there for seconds or hours, Korra wouldn’t know. Each touch brought a hundred new memories for Korra, each memory multiplied into a thousand emotions. If this were an infinite loop and Korra trapped here forever, she’d be just fine with that.

Asami slowly pulled away from her, and Korra couldn’t fight the dopey grin off her face. A few coughs and other uncomfortable sounds reminded her that they were not, in fact, alone and had just made out in front of ten people, coaches included. Asami climbed off of Korra, red-faced, as the latter sat up, laughing sheepishly, hand to the back of her neck.

At a loss, and desperately trying to think of something to break the tension, Korra turned abruptly to Asami.

“Sooo will you go out with me?”

There was a distinct clatter as Lin Beifong dropped her clipboard and threw her hands up in exasperation.

“I’ll be back, I’m just going to throw up,” she said walking out of the gym.

* * *

Two nights later, Korra collapsed onto Asami’s bed, ruffling the neat sheets.

“Hey!” Asami said. “That was perfectly made before you got to it!”

“Oh come on, relax! We just won! We’re in the finals!”

Asami flopped onto the bed next to her. “And you played beautifully.”

“So did you,” Korra said, “except that’s because you’re always beautiful.”

Asami scrunched her nose, and started to rise from the bed.

“Wait, where are you going?” Korra grabbed Asami’s arm.

“I’m going to see if I can find some wine for your cheese.”

Korra rolled her eyes and pulled Asami back to her. She’d literally dreamt of this, Asami above her, bangs tickling her face. Asami bit her lip, and Korra slid a hand further up Asami’s arm, urging her down.

Asami placed her lips on Korra’s, and together they moved in rhythm. When they finally broke the kiss, Asami settled her weight over Korra.

“You know,” Korra said, “you’re finally where you should be.”

“And where’s that?”

“Next to my heart.”

Korra felt Asami smile against her neck.

“Nerd.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize the day before a big game, no coach would ever let their leading players have a dick-measuring contest, but goddamnit, it’s the final chapter. Whatever.
> 
> IMO Korra's the one with the cheesy pick up lines and Asami has a hard time accepting compliments.
> 
> And you ALL knew what kokoro means. I knew y'all were a bunch of weaboos, because no one said anything about the simple little sentence in last chapter's summary.
> 
> You guys are fucking amazing. This started out as a one shot and grew into a story with 900+ kudos. 
> 
> Did someone say Epilogue?


	11. Epilogue: We are the Champions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Define _kokoro_ in three words or less.

Korra glanced around, slowly taking in her surroundings. The room was filled with an abundance of people she didn’t recognize, all with cameras and steno books. Korra grimaced. They’d just beaten the Air Nation for the championship, and all Korra wanted was to spray champagne on people and get really, _really_ drunk.

When Coach Lin had informed her she’d be taking part in a press conference, Korra deflated. The euphoria from becoming champions of THE WHOLE WORLD leaked out of her instantly. Korra had expected ten people, tops. Instead, she was shown to a very long table set in front of at least fifty reporters. Her fingers nervously fiddled with the zipper of her jacket; public speaking wasn’t something constantly on her wishlist.

Asami stood in front of her, posture straight, confidence high. Her face was alight with a post-victory glow and her perfect hair was still slightly damp from a shower. She smelled like mens body wash and Korra couldn’t wait to get home so she could tuck her head against that pale neck and inhale deeply.

But before they could engage in any such shenanigans, Korra would have to deal with this press conference. She was a stark contrast to the composed, visibly flawless Asami. Korra's palms were sweaty and her shoulders slouched. While she too was fresh from a shower, her hair was wet and tangled, and starting to frizz in parts. She wondered vaguely if she applied deodorant.

_They should’ve just let Asami do this. She’s good at this._

But the media had insisted on two players and the head coach. Korra swallowed, yet the lump in her throat refused to go down. She stumbled a bit when a rough hand pushed her forward. She turned to find Coach Lin behind her, looking at the chair in front of Korra with a most obvious stare.

Korra settled into the chair, or at least as much as she was able to. She was able to win championships, lead her team to victory, make a left-handed dunk, and yet she couldn’t get through a press conference without sweating like a fat man at the gym.

“Stop that,” Coach Lin told her peevishly.

Korra looked to where her coach was indicating, finding her leg twitching at an alarming pace, and causing the cup of water on her table to vibrate. She pushed down on the leg, forcing it to stop, but her fingers picked up the slack, nervously twiddling with themselves.

Then Asami’s hand closed over Korra’s, stilling the trembling. Korra relaxed into the touch, letting out the nervous breath she’d been holding. She locked eyes with a smiling Asami, but the bite on her lower lip told Korra that Asami was uncomfortable as well. The thought brought her some relief.

A nearby technician pointed at them, indicating the questions were about to start. Korra faced forward, back straight. The first question was directed at her.

“Korra, how does it feel? You’ve just won the World Championship and been named MVP.”

It was a generic question; Korra had answered this question many times before, though it had been asked a dozen different ways. She cleared her throat. “Well, it feels great. I owe a lot to my coaches and my teammates. We won this championship together. If I could, I’d name everyone on our team MVP.”

The next question went to Lin.

“Coach Beifong, this is your fourth appearance at the World Championships, but the first time you’ve won the whole shebang. What was different this time? What makes this team so special?”

“These girls deserve a lot of credit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a hardworking crew. I’d say they work almost as hard as we did back in the day. They’re a special team. When your captain loves her teammates as much as she loves the game, only good things can happen.”

Korra gaped slack-jawed at Lin. Did she really just say that? Nobody in the press would understand the underlying meaning, but Korra sure as hell did.

Coach Lin turned to Korra, with a smug look and impish smile. _Sorry, not sorry_ , was what the smile said.

Suddenly, a ton of camera flashes went off, and Korra blinked a few times, only seeing spots where there were once people. She squinted around, trying to figure out the reason for the sudden epilepsy trigger.

Ah, Coach Lin smiled. It was the appearance of a modern day unicorn, and so it had to be caught on film.

The questions went on for another fifteen minutes, and Korra found herself getting bored rather than nervous. Finally, the veiled interrogation ebbed, and they filed out of the room. Korra followed Coach Lin out of the hallway, Asami a few paces behind her. The narrow hallway opened up into a large atrium, filled with what Korra could only assume were fans.

They were wearing the United Republic colors, and Korra saw a few children wearing her jersey.

“Korra! Korra! Can I have your autograph?! Please?!”

Korra turned to the sound of the voice, finding a small redhead girl flailing a game program. Korra approached her and knelt down.

“Korra, you’re my favorite player! I want to be like you,” the little girl yelled.

Korra laughed as she took the girl’s pen.

“Me too!” another voice yelled, and Korra looked up to find another girl, this one with brown hair and blue eyes and also waving a program.

Korra grinned and signed their booklets, even drawing little stick figures for them. As soon as she finished signing one child’s book, another would pop up, and so Korra’s speed had slowed to about a step per autograph.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Coach Lin impatiently tapping her foot, but Korra knew better. Lin was like a Reese’s Cup, she looked pretty sturdy, but she was actually just a big softie. Korra finished signing the last of the books in front of her, then rose, looking for Asami.

“...you’re beautiful.”

Korra knew that voice. She knew that happiness.

But why was Asami saying it to someone else?

Korra wheeled around, a twinge of jealousy rising in her chest, beforet it was quickly smothered by guilt for assuming the worst.

Asami was kneeling, speaking to a little girl in a wheelchair. The girl’s skin was patchy in places, red and plaque-like, the clear signs of a burn healed over. Korra hung back, watching the scene with curiosity.

Asami was biting her lip and fiddling with her fingers, something Korra didn’t see very often. Korra knew Asami wasn’t exactly the best with kids; she’d tried to give Su’s four year-old grandson a twenty-eight piece tool kit. But Asami tried, and she was trying now. Asami understood the impact of encouraging words on a child.

“You and Korra are super good! You’re better than Kevin Durant and Russell Westbrook, and they’re the best!”

"Are we?" Asami laughed, and Korra’s heart lilted at the sound.

The little girl nodded vigorously. “Uh huh! When I get bigger I’m gonna be just as good as you!”

Asami chuckled again. “I’m surprised. I thought everyone wanted to be like Korra; she’s the best, you know.” Asami rested her chin on a hand.

The girl shook her head. “But you’re smart! Really, really smart! And pretty!”

Suddenly the girl’s face dropped. “I’m not pretty. Some of the boys call me names,” she said dejectedly.

Korra heart cracked, and she almost forgot that she was a fly on the wall in this conversation.

Asami frowned disapprovingly. “You’re beautiful,” she said again. “What you look like on the outside doesn’t matter.”

The little girl seemed unconvinced though, still frowning. Asami twisted the hand on her chin to a more thoughtful motion.

“How about I tell you a secret?” Asami whispered conspiratorially. The girl’s mood instantly perked up; sharing a secret with her idol was like a free Make A Wish. The girl nodded enthusiastically.

“When I was in school, I used to get made fun of,” Asami said in a storybook voice.

The little girl looked aghast. “What? Why?”

“My dad did some bad things, and they said I was bad too. People I thought were friends stopped talking to me, and they started whispering behind my back.”

“I don’t like them.”

Asami nodded. “Yeah, they weren’t very nice. But I remembered what my mother used to tell me when I was younger. _Mime yori kokoro_.”

Korra stopped breathing. _Kokoro_. That was the word. The word that was somehow connected to Korra. She stood there, transfixed, eavesdropping, no longer caring if Asami or the girl realized she was there.

“What does that mean?” the little girl asked, as the same question ran through Korra’s mind.

“It means ‘heart rather than appearance.’ I learned to stop judging people on what they looked like on the outside. There is always good in someone, no matter how mean they seem.”

Asami smiled, and the little girl seemed to absorb her words. She continued on.

“Sometimes, the people who are the meanest are the ones who need help the most.”

The little girl nodded, the smile on her face restored. “Tell me another secret!"

Asami considered her, then nodded. “Okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“Pinky promise,” the little girl said excitedly, and she wrapped her little finger around Asami’s. Asami smiled and started her story.

“I met a girl who was kind of mean to me. But I was nice to her, because I knew she was a good person. So we became friends, and then I was kind of mean back to her.”

“Why?” the girl said quizzically.

Asami laughed. “I’m not too sure why. Adults do funny things sometimes. But when I was mean to her, I remembered what my mom used to say. This girl was really honest, and she had the biggest heart I’d ever seen. _Kokoro_ , her soul, her heart, was something that I really liked. But I didn’t want to take it. I thought she was too good for me.”

“But you’re so pretty! And smart! And really good at basketball!”

“I’m not as sincere and noble as she is. She’s also very brave, and very pretty.”

Korra blushed.

“So what happened?” the girl urged.

“I learned to accept that I have faults, that I would never be perfect, but I could see that she liked me as I was. She had already accepted my heart, my _kokoro_ into her own. In fact, it was my own heart I had trouble accepting. I never thought I was good enough, but she did. Does.”

The little girl scrunched her nose. “That sounds like a fairy tale.”

Asami gave a low chuckle. “It kind of is.”

Korra stepped away, deciding that she had intruded long enough.

Asami wasn’t perfect, and neither was Korra. Asami bottled herself up too much, Korra let her temper flare a little too often. Asami drank too much Cactus Juice and Korra wore socks two days in a row. Asami was a little too passive when things didn’t go her way, and Korra tried to force things when they required finesse. But they were like a balanced scale, maybe the pieces on each side were a different weight or size, but somehow, when it all came together, it evened out, even if it was a little messy.

It was probably too soon to be feeling this way. She’d only met Asami six months ago, and they’d only been together for one month. But she woke up every day and curled a little tighter into Asami’s back, and Asami smiled with her eyes more than should be legally allowed. Korra’s thoughts wandered over to introducing Asami to her parents, and Asami often thought out loud about visiting each other during the semester. Korra, more often than not, found herself struck by profound silence, a gentle smile all she needed from Asami to make her day complete.

Maybe it was too soon. Korra had never been the one to love less, but maybe, just maybe, Asami loved her just as much as she did.

And one day, when her throat wasn’t dry, and her tongue didn't trip on itself, she’d say those three precious words.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d get them in return.

**_THE END._ **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it folks.
> 
> The only regret I have about this story is that I wish I could’ve thought of a cooler title. Like Space Jam, or Hoosiers (are those used already?). Maybe I’d name it something like “Ed Sheeran writes songs about our lives” or “The only jokes in this fic are the ones our fathers made.”
> 
> I hope you have enjoyed this little tale of a nerd falling in love with a dork. Thank you for sticking around.
> 
> And because no one was asking for it, the official Sato, #22 playlist (aka the Song Appendix):
> 
> Katy Perry - Firework  
> Brian McKnight - One Last Cry  
> Leona Lewis - Bleeding Love  
> Sam Smith - Leave Your Lover  
> Adele - Someone Like You  
> SHINee - Lucifer  
> Getcha Head in the Game - HSM  
> Remember the Name - Fort Minor  
> Taylor Swift - Everything Has Changed, Story of Us, Blank Space, Shake It Off, Back to December, I Knew You Were Trouble, Out of the Woods, Love Story  
> A Beautiful Mess - Jason Mraz  
> O Town - All or Nothing  
> Collide - Howie Day  
> Do You Wanna Build a Snowman? - Frozen OST  
> Irreplaceable - Beyonce
> 
> Bonus: Asami's Love Song - Tenerife Sea - Ed Sheeran


End file.
